pftranj of Wmptw. 






UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



^zr, 



A TALK WITH IT PUPILS. 



A TALK WITH MY PUPILS, 



MRS. CHARLES SEDGWICK. 



' FIRST THE BLADE. THEN THE EAR ; AFTER THAT. THE FULL CORN IN THE EAR." 



<jf 




PUBLISHED AND SOLD FOR THE AUTHOR BY 



JOHN HOPPER, No. 110 BROADWAY. 
NEV YORK, MDCCCLXBX 









ii C 



Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1862. 1 y 

JOHN HOPPER, 

In the Clerk"s Office of the District Court of the United States, for the 
Southern District of New York. 



2- . 






WYNKOOP. HALLENDECK. A THOMAS, PRINTERS, 
Ko. 113 Fuiion Street, New Y'ork. 



HENRIETTA B. HAINES, 



MY BELOVED KINSWOMAN 



AND EEYEEED FEIEND AND FELLOW- WOEKEE, 



A LAEGE EOETION OF WHOSE LIFE 



HAS BEEN MOST 



NOBLY AND SUCCESSFULLY DEVOTED 



TO THE SAME CAUSE 



WHICH THIS LITTLE BOOK IS INTENDED To PEOMOTE, 



IT IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED. 



PEEFACE. 

TThex the British public, in recognition of Miss 
Nightingale's invaluable services in the Crimean 
hospitals, bestowed upon her a very large sum of 
money, she received various suggestions from one 
and another as to its disposal. " Some of my 
friends," this she wrote to one with whom she 
was intimate, " advise me to have a statue made 
of myself; what do you think of that '? Another 
suggests that I should build a magnificent hospital. 
I shall probably devote it to the refitting and re- 
furnishing of hospitals already in use." 

I have no pretension to place myself in the 
same category with this noble woman. It is 
simply the fact of my feeling the same interest 



11 PREFACE. 

in the young, which is inspired in her by the 
sick — that I would like to improve schools, as she 
would like to improve hospitals, that has sug- 
gested her name to me in this connection. 

I have written this little book as a sort of 
resume of oral lessons on various subjects given, 
from time to time, to my scholars — repeated here, 
of course, with large amplifications — desiring thus 
to perpetuate myself, not merely in their memo- 
ries, but in their lives — mayhap, also, to some de- 
gree, in the lives of their descendants — and of 
making it more sure that the work in which I 
have been so long engaged, and which I am still 
zealously pursuing, may, in the Scripture sense, 
" follow me," when " I shall go hence to be here 
no more." 

Lenox, Massachusetts, 
Nov. 23di 1862. 



CONTENTS, 



Tage 

Life's Preparatory Period 1 

Daughters and Sisters 9 

Relations with the Poor and Friendless 2£ 

Ptelations with Servants 88 

Manners 50 

The Love of Nature 60 

Travelling 70 

Teaching 79 

School Government 90 

Marriage 103 

Maternity 122 

Parental Weakness and Folly 139 

The Shams of Society et. al. versus Truth 155 

Days of Mourning 175 

Prejudice and Harsh Judgments 187 

Moral Courage 206 

Patriotism 217 



A TALK WITH MY PUPILS. 



CHAPTER L 



LIFE'S PREPARATORY PERIOD. 



My Dear Children, as, in some sort, you seem to 

me. 

Durixg the long term of years in which I have 
held an intimate and most interesting relation with 
one after another of you, at an important period 
in your lives, I have been led to discuss with you, 
from time to time, many topics not found in our 
school-books, but having an important bearing 
upon human life and destiny. You will remember 
how often I have told you that education, directed 
to the intellect only, could do but a small, and that 
not the most important, part of its work ; and that, 
whatever advance you might make in your studies, 
I should not feel pleased or satisfied unless I per- 
ceived a correspondent moral and religious pro- 
gress. I have also taught you that the body, too, 
should be carefully educated ; that its powers 



2 life's preparatory period. 

should be drawn forth, and systematically strength- 
ened by exercise ; that God's commandments, 
written on man's physical nature — as that, for 
instance, which requires the constant use and 
activity of every organ, as the only means by 
which it may be fully developed, and kept in 
order for the fulfilment of its proper office — is 
as much the Creator's law, as binding, as authori- 
tative, as those written upon the tables of stone 
on Mount Sinai. Indeed, the thunders and light- 
nings that attended the promulgation of the latter, 
significant of the dread effects that would ensue 
upon disobedience, might, with equal fitness, be 
regarded as emblematic of the horrible punishment 
and suffering that follow disregard and violation of 
the laws, imprinted also by the finger of God upon 
our bodily frame. 

Those of you, who have adopted this creed, and 
practised it, will have eagerly improved every 
faculty — every power bestowed upon you by your 
Creator — and if so, you have had no room for idle- 
ness ; none for the demon ennui. Alas ! that 
beings endowed with an immortal nature, with 
faculties capable of infinite development, with 
senses to discern the glorious beauties of God's 
wonderful works, and with hearts capable of beat- 
ing in unison with the great heart of humanity, 
should ever complain that life is tedious, and that 
time moves on leaden wings. 



life's peepaeatoey peeiod. 3 

"We are placed in a world where we are sur- 
rounded with objects fitted to give full and inter- 
esting employment to all those faculties, so that, if 
we study, and are active to the end of a long life, 
we find ever more and more to be learned and to 
be done ; and the wisest, the most gifted, and the 
most industrious — those who accomplish most, and 
make the highest attainments, are ready to say 
with the great discoverer, Newton, that they have 
" gathered but a few pebbles on the shore of the 
great sea of knowledge." 

God has made this, our earthly abode, wondrous- 
ly fair. Forces underneath its beautifully varied 
surface are perpetually elaborating fair flowers, 
and a green carpet with up-springing trees to cover 
it, while the very vapors which rise from it are 
made into graceful tent-coverings, that shield us 
from the sun, and gorgeous adornments for the sky 
over our heads — all effected by laws, the study 
alone of which might serve for life-long occupa- 
tion, without any attempt to penetrate into nature's 
profounder secrets. On every side of us are human 
beings, the brethren of Jesus, and pronounced by 
by him our brethren, who need society, aid, or 
counsel, sympathy or instruction, or all these toge- 
ther, and yet, strange to say, life with many is dull 
and objectless, or filled up with the "vanity of 
vanities." To many a young lady, the exhibition 
of a new dress at a party, and the distinction of 



4 life's preparatory period. 

being a belle there, is the greatest interest in life ; 
and the thoughts of many a married lady are all 
centred in her being the mistress of a fine estab- 
lishment, or in making what the world calls u a 
great match" for her daughter, which, being inter- 
preted, means one that will secure wealth and so- 
called position, irrespective of every thing essential 
to the promotion of the highest objects for which 
God established that sacred institution, marriage. 
Others, who have not the temptations of the gay 
world to encounter, are satisfied with a decent, 
respectable performance of a daily routine of home- 
ly duty. Far be it from me to under-value this ; 
but I would have more life put into it, have it 
made compatible with something to enlarge its 
sphere, and to keep heart and mind and soul wide- 
awake. Our Saviour was sent to give sight to the 
blind, speech to the dumb, hearing to the deaf, and 
to restore the halt and the lame to soundness and 
activity. Who so blind as they who do not discern 
the path of duty, who have no eye for the wonders 
of creation, none for the claims upon them of their 
fellow-men ? "Who so dumb as they whose lips 
have no utterance of praise to God, or sympathy 
for his sorrowing children — none of love, of wis- 
dom, of counsel V Who so deaf as they who listen 
not to the voice of God that comes to them 
from his works and from his word — from his 
providence — from the depths of their own hearts, 



LIFE'S PREPARATORY PERIOD. O 

and from all the experience of life, and on whose 
ear the cry of the suffering, the helpless, the igno- 
rant, the wandering, the bewildered, the despairing, 
falls unheeded"? Who so halt — so lame as they 
who lazily loiter on life's journey, with loins un- 
girded, never looking before them to the mark of 
the prize of the high calling of G-od, in Christ 
Jesus their Lord ; whose feet never serve them in 
any errand undertaken in his cause ? 

After school-life, before marriage, which, because 
it is the usual God-appointed destiny of woman, 
I speak of, as in most instances, a matter of course, 
there commonly ensue some years, in regard to 
which, although they are devoted by many, with- 
out scruple, to idleness and frivolity, some are led 
to inquire, " How shall I spend this period of life ; 
how make it useful, so that I can render my ac- 
count of it with joy, and receive the blessed bene- 
diction, ' "Well done' *? " and I have sometimes 
been asked by conscientious girls to give them 
my advice upon this subject. In the next stage 
of life, marriage, a certain amount of duty and 
occupation becomes in the natural order of things 
imperative ; whereas, now, it is voluntary, that is, 
not enforced by circumstances, so that there is an 
escape from it. 

If some of you are among the inquirers, it 
would please me very much to be able to give 
you a satisfactory answer. A great mistake usu- 



G life's preparatory period. 

ally made at this period, is that of considering 
that one's education has been mainly completed ; 
that although it may be worth while to give a 
little time to some study or other, yet there is no 
longer occasion for any systematic culture of the 
mind. This, however, should be pursued as much 
as possible, under all circumstances, and several 
hours every day of a young lady's life, should be 
devoted to it. Think how many powers, how 
many faculties belong to you, which should have 
distinct, and, if possible, regular, constant cultiva- 
tion. 

Whether the science of phrenology be regarded 
as true or not, there can be no objection to its 
convenient nomenclature. Veneration should be 
cultivated by the study of God in his works, and 
in his word, and by devotional exercises ; ideality, 
by the observation and study of the beautiful in 
some of its infinitely varied forms ; causation 
by some mathematical or scientific pursuit ; com- 
parison, by some thing that requires careful an- 
alysis ; language by means too obvious to men- 
tion ; tune, if you have it, by practice with the 
voice or upon an instrument ; conscientiousness, 
by fidelity to every duty, by strict justice in 
judgment and in action, and by freedom from pas- 
sion and prejudice in all the intercourse of life ; 
benevolence, by the perpetual diffusion of kind- 
ness and love in the family circle, as well as in 



LIFE'S PEEPAEATOEY PEEIOD. 7 

society at large, and by frequent attempts to put 
the fingers which the Pharisees refused, to some 
burden of sorrow or difficulty. Of course, a proper 
time must be allotted also for the exercise of the 
muscular system, and for the performance of every 
social duty. Think you that a life so ordered would 
be either tedious or unprofitable ? 

G-od cannot bestow on his creatures powers of 
any son, without stamping them with value in 
the very act of conferring them ; without intend- 
ing that they should be cultivated to the utmost. 
Whosoever, therefore, condemns their cultivation, 
makes himself, as man is constantly prone to do, 
wiser than G-od ; whose purpose in man's crea- 
tion is best fulfilled by those who aim at their 
most complete development. Besides the time 
necessary for this self-culture, one who loves 
knowledge can never find enough for reading. 
For a young person to grow up without a love of 
nature, and a love of books, is a greater calamity 
than to be born minus one of the senses ; for then, 
the others are sure to be roused to increased ac- 
tivity. 

One reason why the boundary of a woman's 
life is generally so limited, is, that she takes little 
or no part in the interests that are not comprised 
within her own immediate circle. Now that it is 
so easy to know what of greatest moment is go- 
ing on in every part of the world, as well as in 



8 life's preparatory period. 

our own hemisphere, and that in the great human 
family, events, discoveries, inventions, changes, 
experiments of the most interesting nature are of 
constant occurrence, while questions that have a 
most important bearing upon the great interests 
of society, are perpetually coming up for discus- 
sion, it is sheer stolid stupidity to live as if one 
little section of this little globe were our universe. 
I strongly advise you, therefore, to pursue a differ- 
ent course in this respect, and especially to ac- 
quaint yourselves with topics that are intimately 
connected with the welfare and progress of our 
own country. 



CHAPTER II. 



DAUGHTERS AXD SISTERS. 



When a young girl returns home from school, 
or when, not having been away, she ceases to be 
a school-girl, what are the new duties that devolve 
upon her ? What must she bring to the common 
stock of materials out of which domestic life is 
wrought ? This is a question that she should ask 
and seriously consider. The domestic relations 
have been established by God, both for our enjoy- 
ment and improvement. They are all beautiful, 
all, when their duties are properly fulfilled, calcu- 
lated to quicken into ever newer and fresher life, 
the best feelings of our nature, and impart force 
and vigor to its highest tendencies. The most 
attractive image under which Grod can be pre- 
sented to us, is that of a father; and Jesus, to 
show the nature of the blessed tie which binds 
him to the human family, calls himself our brother 
and friend. 

Let me, first of all, guard you against an error 
which, I think, may be at the foundation of much 
domestic misery and disappointment. It is that 
1* 



10 DAUGHTERS AND SISTERS. 

of supposing that parents and children, brothers 
and sisters, necessarily love each other, by virtue 
of the relation which nature has established be- 
tween them. Whereas, although there is, or al- 
ways should be, a certain dutiful feeling of obli- 
gation to adhere together, and discharge towards 
one another the duties of kindred, yet affection 
can be based only upon respect and mutual sym- 
pathy and service. When I have seen a father of 
stern, arbitrary temper, hold over his family the 
heavy hand of an oppressor, ruling them with a 
rod of iron ; when I have seen the selfish man 
unceasing in unreasonable exaction, acting always 
with a single eye to his own convenience, and his 
own preferences, and making every domestic ar- 
rangement solely with reference to his own pur- 
poses ; both, apparently, receiving the compul- 
sory devotion of their wives and children, as the 
homage of affection, I have felt disposed to ask, 
" And do you believe that these can really love 
you, who see that their happiness is as nothing 
to you in comparison with your own, and who 
cannot find in you any of those qualities to which 
love is responsive ?" Such men might be shocked, 
perhaps, by having such a question put to them, 
and by being awakened out of their dream, thrt 
they were loved and respected as a matter of 
course, by right of being husbands and fathers. 
And so also, might women, not a small class, I 



DAUGHTERS AND SISTERS. 11 

fear, discontented, peevish, unamiable, fault-find- 
ing wives and mothers, who are inattentive, indif- 
ferent to the comfort of their families, irritable 
towards their husbands, capricious with their 
children, and arrogant to their servants, without 
fear or suspicion that they shall not receive a 
full measure of affection and respect. And when 
I see brothers and sisters acting unworthily, self- 
seeking, heedless of one another's convenience or 
pleasure, jealous of one another, ill-tempered, etc., 
I say to myself, " Oh ! what suffering must be 
endured, when those are bound together by ties 
of so intimate a nature, who have not oneness 
of heart." They who desire to be loved must first 
deserve to be so, in every relation. 

Mrs. Kemble, the great revealer of Shaks- 
peare, once said to me, that it was with Shaks- 
peare as with the Bible, she never opened it with- 
out finding something new. And, in illustration, 
she quoted a line in Romeo and Juliet, which had 
that day particularly attracted her attention, 
in which Juliet calls Romeo, " lover, husband, 
friend," making the last epithet the culmination of 
all the rest. Now, the father must be also the friend 
of his children, the husband of his wife, the wife 
of her husband; the brothers and sisters, of one 
another. True friendship will refrain from every- 
thing that can injure or annoy its objects, and seek 
for every thing that can benefit them. That word 



12 DAUGHTERS AND SISTERS. 

friend is a glorious old Saxon word. Do all you 
can to illustrate its meaning. 

The relation of brother and sister is, in some 
sort, a preparation for that of husband and wife. 
So educate your sons that they shall be to their 
sisters the type of what a husband ought to be ; 
and so educate your daughters that their brothers 
shall be made incapable, through association with 
them, of uniting themselves with the inferior and 
the unworthy of their sex. If sisters are what 
they should be, they will inspire in their brothers 
a true, chivalric spirit, and this will have its 
proper natural training, in its exercise towards 
them. Let sisters have that in them which is so 
noble as to be revered, so attractive as to be lov- 
ingly and tenderly cherished, so sacred as to be 
worthy of all self-sacrifice in its protection and 
defense, then will the young men have already 
watched their armor in the sacred enclosure of 
home, and consecrated it to the cause of honor, 
truth, and right, before going forth into life's 
battle-field. 

To return to my emancipated school-girl. She 
must bring with her, first, a conviction that home 
is a sphere of duty. If necessary, she must cheer- 
fully give the aid of her hands in some of its ar- 
rangements. She must be glad of every oppor- 
tunity, small as well as great, to render assistance 
in any way to her father or mother, in acknowl- 



DAUGHTERS AND SISTERS. 13 

edgment of her great d^: to them, rejoicing 
that she is permitted " still paying, still to owe." 
If she has younger brothers and sisters, she must 
make herself acceptable and agreeable to them, 
by sweetness and patience in her intercourse with 
them, by sympathy in all their pursuits and en- 
joyments, avoiding always, unless left by her 
parents in charge of them, the assertion of au- 
thority, which, when assumed by an elder sister, 
is apt to awaken strong resistance, inspired by 
the feeling that animated a little boy I knew, 
who, when about three years old, replied indig- 
nantly to an aunt that said, <; If you do so and 
so, I shall certainly punish you," " You aint the 
one that must." 

If it be true, that little things make up the sum 
of human life and happiness, this may be espec- 
ially affirmed of domestic life. As a small speck 
in the eye may deprive it of vision, and make it 
the medium exclusively of a sensation of pain ; as 
a pinching shoe or an ill-fining garment may pro- 
duce an abiding sense of discomfort, not in the 
least degree modified by the fact that, in other 
respects, the dress is all right ; so, little faults in 
ourselves may give great annoyance to those with 
whom we are in intimate association. 

Punctuality has been called one of the minor 
virtues. If its place in the scale were decided 
by its important bearing upon all the arrange- 



11 DAUGHTERS AND SISTERS. 

ments of life, it might attain majority. The un- 
jDunctual are perpetual thieves of other men's 
time. This alone, is sufficient to stamp them with 
reprobation. A want of punctuality is one of the 
many forms of selfishness, the root of all evil. If 
your father is a man who counts much upon 
the pleasure of having all his family with him at 
his meals, you may, by your dilatoriness, quite 
spoil them for him, any proof of a child's indiffer- 
ence being a poor appetizer. Nor is it merely with 
the enjoyment of his meal that you may inter- 
fere, but with its digestion ; since the most ma- 
terial functions of our material bodies, are great- 
ly assisted, or greatly hindered, by moral agen- 
cies. 

The unpunctual man is apt to think that the 
greatest evil he occasions, by his special infirmity, 
is temporary inconvenience or disappointment. 
But this is not so. If one of his delays should 
disturb only the arrangements for one day of a 
single person, he may congratulate himself. Order 
is Heaven's first law ; and the second, regular rou- 
tine, is like unto it. If the earth and the moon 
were to loiter in their course, and accomplish their 
revolutions at uncertain times, and in uncertain 
periods, everything here would be out of joint. 
And so is everything put out of joint that is in 
the sphere of duty and occupation of the procras- 
tinator. If the duty that belongs to one hour be 



DAUGHTERS AND SISTERS. 15 

deferred to another, they seem subjected to a 
process that merges one in another, until all are 
reduced to a single vanishing point, and leave do 
record behind them. What bitter disappointment 
and what serious annoyance and loss, may come 
from a letter a little too late for the mail — a bill 
paid after the promised time — an appointment not 
kept — a commission deferred ! Xote for your- 
selves, and think on these things. 

Punctuality is essential to another virtue — relia- 
bleness, Do all that you promise to do, and all that 
you are rightfully required and expected to do, as 
certainly, so far as it depends upon yourself, as the 
sun rises and sets, so that the hearts of all with whom 
you are in any way connected, may " safely trust" 
in you. Then you will become " pillars of support" 
in the family and in society, instead of broken 
reeds. The comfort and satisfaction of dealing 
with the truly reliable is immense, as, of course, 
also is the misery of all intercourse with the unre- 
liable. Go, when you say you will go ; come, 
when you say you will come ; do this and that, 
when you say you will do it, even if it be a little 
thing, without being deterred by any but insuper- 
able obstacles. Some of you will remember how 
once, when a party from a neighboring village had 
engaged to pass the evening with me, and sent a 
messenger at noon to say that the bad state of the 
roads must prevent their coming, we all went 



16 DAUGHTERS AND SISTERS 

down in the large sleigh to tell them, at their own 
doors, how sorry we were, also. 

Some people, who would not break any import- 
ant promise, have little or no conscience in regard 
to small promises. I advise you to cultivate in 
yourselves, and in your children after you, the ob- 
ligation of these especially ; for, as in the case of 
pounds and pence, if the latter are cared for, the 
others will take care of themselves. 

Nor is the manifestation of this reliableness to 
be confined to action ; it must belong as well to 
moods and phases of feeling, and is opposed to 
caprice and inconstancy of every sort. Let those 
who have a natural claim to dependence of some 
sort or other upon you, and those to whom, by 
preference of friendship or offers of service, you 
have given a claim, never be disappointed in their 
reasonable expectations. The complaint "I never 
know where to find him," so often heard in society, 
is applicable, unfortunately, to a large class, with 
whom is such variableness, that, whether you shall 
meet frowns or smiles from them ; whether you 
shall receive a cordial shake of the hand, or have 
a cold shoulder turned towards you — whether, if 
your character is attacked, they will defend you, 
or seem, by their silence, to acquiesce in the con- 
demnation — is all matter of uncertainty. There is 
no real friend, that is not a steadfast friend, that 
cannot be relied upon for friendly regard and con- 



DAUGHTERS AN'D SISTEIIS. 17 

sideration, under all circumstances. And lie is not 
a good neighbor, or desirable acquaintance, who 
gives testimonies of good-will one day, which, for 
no obvious reason, he entirely withholds on the 
next. Have as little to do with such people as 
possible, and "be ye not, therefore, like unto 
them." 

Daughters and sisters should be like flowers and 
sunshine in a house. They have not yet, in ordin- 
ary circumstances, grave responsibilities, nor oner- 
ous duties. They have a right to be, to a certain 
extent, ornamental ; and their light-heartedness 
should diffuse cheerfulness and joy throughout the 
whole house. They should try, also, to make it 
attractive by all sorts of tasteful arrangements and 
simple decorations — such as may be gathered from 
gardens and the woods. Their voices should be as 
the sound of music, and their presence full of all 
" sweet influences," like the seven sisters of the 
heavens. They should watch for occasions of giv- 
ing pleasure in a thousand little ways, by unlooked- 
for tokens of love and remembrance, or by agreeable 
surprises. 

Why do little gifts and offerings of slight value 
in themselves, often impart so much pleasure, but 
because they betoken remembrance and considera- 
tion ; and what can better show how subtle and 
wonder-working is the power of association, by 
which importance and dignity are imparted to the 



18 DAUGHTERS AND SISTERS. 

homeliest thing, on account of what it is made to 
signify, than that even by providing a favorite dish 
we may touch the heart of one we love. Thus, 
love spiritualizes life even through material agen- 
cies, when it is its moving principle. The regular 
observance of birthdays may become a mere form ; 
but when the record is evidently kept — not in the 
almanac, but on the tablets of the heart — and an 
offering, however simple, is presented in proof of 
its accuracy, it awakens a sentiment that becomes 
a source of new inspiration, new strength, and 
new joy; and the birthday is made to foreshadow 
that which shall introduce the soul into the sphere 
of immortal life. This reminds me to tell you of 
the beautiful manner in which one man whom I 
know observes the birthday of a living friend, and 
of one who is no longer here. When that of the 
former occurs, he has a bountiful, excellent enter- 
tainment provided for the poor women of a large 
institution in the city of his residence ; and on the 
occasion of the other, he furnishes the nearest 
friends of the departed one with gifts, to present 
to any whom they may like so to remember on 
"Willy's" birthday. 

Many persons are naturally kindhearted, who 
have not been made, by education, thoughtful and 
considerate of others. They would do a great 
deal more for their fellow-beings, especially in little 
ways, if it only occurred to them to use their op- 



DAUGHTERS AND SISTERS. 19 

portunities — cultivate a habit of consideration . Let 
those with whom you are intimately associated, see 
that you bear ever in your mind their peculiar 
tastes and preferences, and like to gratify them ; 
while you avoid, as much as possible, what is dis- 
pleasing to them. There is a certain quiet, noise- 
less recognition of those rights of another, which 
the heart loves to acknowledge, that is expressed 
by symbols — is manifested by deeds, not words. 
There are voiceless utterances throughout a dwell- 
ing from morning until night, which make an in- 
scription on its walls, "wanting" or " not wanting." 
You find among its members one, perhaps, who 
claims nothing for herself, yet never waits to be 
asked what others want, and makes all conscious 
of a presence as loving and kindly to them as the 
sun and dew to the flower ; and another, isolated, 
self-absorbed, cold, and repulsive, a link fallen out 
of the chain of humanity and brotherhood. "Which 
would you most like to resemble ? Nor will such 
an one as my model confine her sweet charities to 
the home circle. She will not forget how the weary 
eyes of the lonely sick girl may be lightened by 
the sight of fresh flowers, while her heart is 
cheered by the odor of remembrance that breathes 
from them ; how the poor mother, exhausted 
with nursing her sick family, may be refreshed by 
a drive ; how the loan of a book may benefit and 
delight the seamstress at the end of her day's work. 



20 DAUGHTERS AND SISTERS. 

Sons are no longer needed, as in the olden time, 
" to speak with the enemy in the gates," but it is 
the more especial office of daughters, I think, to 
receive and welcome the guests and friends of the 
house, and assist in their entertainment. They 
cannot be too early inspired with the spirit, or 
trained to the practice of true hospitality. They 
should demean themselves courteously to all, and 
do whatever in them lies, to please them and make 
them happy. Whomsoever their father or mother 
choose to invite or admit to the house, must, on 
that account, if on that alone, be made welcome 
by them. Much has been said of the difficulty of 
speaking and practising the truth in the ordinary 
intercourse of society, without violating courtesy; 
and I admit that it is very hard to avoid saying 
sometimes, "I am glad to see you," etc., when 
such is not the case ; but, as the simple practice 
of the golden rule would produce a sort of com- 
munism, answering a thousand times better than 
any system devised by Fourier, or attempted to be 
carried out by some American enthusiast, to level 
the inequalities of society, and give all men a fair 
chance for happiness and improvement ; so a truly 
Christian good-will to our fellow-men, would make 
us glad to meet them for their own sakes, if not 
for ours, and enable us to say truly, under the 
consciousness of being able to give them pleasure, 
that which otherwise would not be true. 



DAUGHTERS AND SISTERS. 21 

It may be that some of you will have a step 
mother ; if so, take care that you do not, by your 
own misconduct, help to make the relation, what it 
is very commonly supposed to be, one productive 
only of misery. To fulfill it well, requires, on the 
part of the mother, the exercise of high principle 
and great wisdom, a union not very often found, and, 
for that reason, and that only, I presume, " Novercce 
terribilcs" have been the terror of motherless chil- 
dren. A great deal of mischief is often done be- 
forehand by servants, and officious acquaintance, 
instilling into the minds of such, the idea that 
"father has no business to marry again," and that 
whomsoever he may put in the place of their 
mother, will be their enemy ; thus doing much to 
create the evil they predict. 

Question not your father's right to do what he 
pleases in the matter. Xothing but a solemn vow 
never to marry yourself and leave him, would give 
you a claim even to remonstrate with him. If you 
truly love him, you will be kind and friendly to 
her whom he makes his wife, for his sake, and the 
right performance of your own duty in the new 
relation will be essential to its true and proper 
character. 

I have known step-mothers who were more 
faithful to their step-children, in every way, than 
many mothers to their own children, because more 
capable and more conscientious. I have known a 



22 DAUGHTERS AND SISTERS. 

young man of obstinate temper, who had been found 
unmanageable at school and at home, completely- 
subdued and won by the gentle firmness and kind 
devotion of a step-mother. I have known a step- 
mother whose husband's income was small, and 
who could allow herself but one servant, refuse to 
avail herself of the aid of his daughters in the 
family, because she thought they should have all 
their time for school, and encourage their father to 
send them to the best he could possibly afford. I 
have known a young man who, when he wanted 
any favors of his father, would request his step- 
mother to intercede for him — and I have seen a 
step-mother's eyes fill with tears at the praises of 
her step-daughter. Properly fulfilled, it becomes 
a beautiful relation, all the more beautiful from its 
inherent delicacy and difficulty. 



CHAPTER III. 



RELATIONS WITH THE POOR AND FRIENDLESS. 



As this is the period when, if at all, perhaps, 
your relations with the poor and the suffering will 
be established, some remarks upon the kind of 
intercourse with this large class of our fellow- 
beings, most likely to profit both them and our- 
selves, will not be out of place here. 

Jesus says : " All mankind are brethren." Do 
we so regard them? If true disciples of Jesus, 
we must do so, and yet, I think that many deceive 
themselves, using the phrase, while its spirit 
escapes from them. A lady with whom I once 
met in travelling, told me of the great indebtedness 
she felt to Doctor Channing for some ideas derived 
from him, on the subject of Christian intercourse 
with the poor. She said she had learned from him 
to go among them, as their friend and equal, in 
Burns' phrase, as " their poor earth-born com- 
panion and fellow-mortal," and that, therefore, not 
only her satisfaction in aiding them, but her useful- 
ness, had been greatly increased, for she found herself 
achieving more by the manifestation of a real sym- 



24 RELATIONS WITH THE 

pathy with them, than she had ever done by any 
relief afforded to their material wants. " Silver 
and gold have I none, but such as I have give I 
unto thee.' Every human being has that to give 
which is better than either, and a great deal more 
acceptable. This lady was an Episcopalian, and 
so deep was her feeling of gratitude and reverence 
for Doctor Channing, that, upon finding a notice of 
him after his death, in her Episcopalian newspaper, 
derogatory to his claim of being regarded as a Chris- 
tian, she immediately discontinued it. 

Our Saviour says, " Come unto me, all ye that 
are weary and heavy laden," and the life of every 
true disciple should breathe the same invitation, so 
that the poor and suffering should come to him as 
freely as they came to his Master. I have known 
one or two eminent instances where this was the 
case, but I fear they are comparatively rare. Some 
have the good-will, but not the tact, perhaps, so 
to meet their fellow-creatures, and lament all their 
lives, a certain inaptitude, whether of tempera- 
ment or something else, which prevents them ; 
but, generally, the defect is want of will. 

" Do you know," said a young friend of mine, 
" what an adoration my black cook has for uncle 
C. ?" 

"No; does she know him V 

" She hardly knows him at all, but if she hears 
that he is in the house she is very happy ; and if 



POOR AND FRIENDLESS. 25 

he passes through the kitchen, and speaks to her, 
she is perfectly enchanted." 

" And what is the explanation of this ?" 
" Simply that once when she had passed anight 
in his house, with a servant of his, and was 
coming away before breakfast, he saw her getting 
into the stage at the door, and said : ' What ! 
going away without breakfast ! That will never 
do,' and, running into the house, brought her a cup 
of coffee." 

This is a very slight incident, but see how sig- 
nificant it is, and touching too. If similar recog- 
nitions of human brotherhood were not so rare, 
the heart of that poor woman would not have 
been so deeply moved. Acts of this nature 
marked every day and hour of this uncle's life. A 
young lady, when she saw him running out, in a 
cold winter's day, to insist upon lending a great 
coat to a worthless man passing by, who had set 
off without one, on a cold winter's drive, said of 
him, " I never saw such a man ; I never heard of 
such a man, and I never read of such a man." 
When he died, his humble friends, in " all the 
region round about," came flocking to the cham- 
ber of death, as if to a place they had a right to 
visit, and wrung their hands, and wept over him. 
Several of them afterwards received some little 
gifts in memory of him, with tears streaming down 
their faces. One of them, an Irishman, said, 



26 RELATIONS WITH THE 

" I have lost the best friend I ever had, and he 
always trated me just the same as if I was a 
jintleman." 

What else is meant by giving a cup of cold 
water in the name of the Lord, than offering it in 
a true spirit of Christian love and kindness. " Inas- 
much as ye have done it," etc. Those are wonder- 
ful words, and should be carefully weighed ; for 
they apply as well to acts of oppression, injustice, 
cruelty, unkindness, as to those of an opposite 
character. " Ye have done it unto me!" What 
an intimate union does this imply between the 
Saviour and those to whom he was sent. What 
ineffable love and sympathy and tenderness on 
his part, for all — even the lowest and most de- 
graded ! How dare we grieve Him on their ac- 
count ? How can we afford to forego the bless- 
edness of doing unto Him, by doing for them, and 
for all with whom we have intercourse of any sort, 
what He will approve ( 

I once heard a sermon from the text, " Blessed 
are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy," 
and said to myself, surely no invention of man's 
seeking can here be made to supersede, as so often 
is done, the simple meaning of Christ's beautiful 
precept. But the clergyman, after dwelling 
slightly upon the duty of being merciful in the or- 
dinary acceptation of the word, proceeded to exhort 
his hearers not to forget, in their care for men's 



POOR AND FEIEXDLESS. 27 

bodies, the greater and more important needs of 
their souls ; and devoted himself, almost exclusive- 
ly, to an inculcation of the duty of praying for 
them, and laboring with them for their salvation. 
In every community are found not a few, I fear, 
both of the self-righteous and niggardly ; and I 
could not but imagine some of the congregation 
praying afterwards complacently and fervently 
for their fellow-men, or exhorting them, earnestly, 
to " flee from the wrath to come," for the smallest 
of whose wants they would never have an open 
hand. What can so well persuade men to righteous- 
ness as the exhibition of a truly Christian life, or- 
dered after our Saviour's example ? It was said 
by a young man who knew the " uncle," already 
spoken of, " There was a period when I turned 
skeptical, and lost all my religious faith. But I 
became acquainted with him, and his life was such 
a gospel, that I was reclaimed by it." 

In all our ministrations, of every sort, we should 
regard ourselves as G-od's agents, and cultivate a 
habit of deep and profound gratitude to him for 
every opportunity of making a fellow-creature 
better or happier — for the privilege of being ap- 
pointed by him to confer a benefit of any kind, or 
in any form. This beautiful petition occurs in a 
prayer found after his death among the papers of 
the uncle, " May we consider every opportunity of 
adding to the happiness of any creature as a mer- 



28 RELATIONS WITH THE 

ciful provision for our own, if we will rightly 
improve it." 

I speak in this chapter of our relations with the 
poor, as they are found in ordinary life. Without 
any departure from ordinary routine and cus- 
tom, one who is alert in doing good will have no 
lack of opportunity ; whereas, for the want of this 
alertness, favorable occasions often pass unim- 
proved, perhaps unperceived. 

A friend of mine, whose genuine love for his 
fellow-beings keeps his eye wide awake to their 
interests, under all circumstances, was holding a 
court in Boston, when a little boy, with a fine, 
open countenance, was brought before him on the 
charge of stealing a breast-pin. A gentleman was 
in attendance — a good Samaritan — whose regular 
occupation it was to hang about the criminal 
courts for the very purpose of befriending the 
accused, and preventing the wrong and suffering 
that may come, even to the innocent, from the 
want of a " friend in need." The judge begged 
him to talk with the boy, and find out his story. 
He represented himself as from Scotland, sent here 
by his uncles to place him beyond the reach of a 
cruel step-mother. He said that he had recently 
arrived in the country, and was staying at a board- 
ing-house, before he was put in prison. " Did 
you steal the breast-pin V" it was asked. "Yes, 
sir ; I suppose it is called stealing." " Tell me 



POOR AND FRIENDLESS. 29 

how it was." " There was another boy at the 
boarding-house ; he took my handkerchief, and 
would not let me have it again, so I took his pin." 
The judge afterwards talked himself with the little 
boy, and said to him, " If we can find you a good 
home, where you can learn to work and support 
yourself, would you like to have it ?" " Yes, sir." 
" Is there any one you know whom you would 
like to live with?" " Yes, sir." "Who is it?" 
"You, sir." The judge would gladly have taken 
the little friendless boy under his own charge, but 
there were obstacles in the way which he could 
not surmount. He availed himself, however, of 
certain discretionary powers, and engaged the good 
Samaritan to look out a place for him. He was 
fortunate in his search, and after the little boy had 
been some time in his new home, there came a 
most satisfactory report of him from his employer. 
" He was the best little boy that ever was ; nothing 
would induce him to part with him." This is a 
case in point to show how much wrong, as well as 
injury, is often done by criminal prosecutions. If 
the judge had been intent only upon using his pre- 
rogative, had he been a man without ready sympa- 
thies, this little boy would probably have been 
confined in a prison long enough to have his char- 
acter for ever ruined. 

I shall speak in another chapter on this subject, 
in connection with servants ; but, in the mean time, 



30 RELATIONS WITH THE 

will suggest here the great wickedness of criminal 
procedures against the young, the ignorant, the 
friendless, the needy, unless for very flagrant 
offenses, A disposition to theft, for instance, even 
where no great temptation to it exists, seems to be 
lodged sometimes in the very fingers' ends. I 
know at this moment two gentlemen, of great 
uprightness of character, who, when lads, were 
each guilty of this sin, at least once. Had they 
been poor boys, they would, in all probability, 
have been subjected to legal penalty. Many years 
ago, in a certain town in Massachusetts, a young 
lad apprenticed to a watch-maker, who had always 
borne a good character, was found to have taken 
from the case three pairs of spectacles. This singu- 
lar selection of articles might have given his master 
pause — his previous good character certainly should 
have constituted some ground for hesitation on his 
part ; but no, he had him instantly taken up, as 
a thief, although he was " the only son of his 
mother, and she a widow." The poor woman, of 
course, was nearly broken-hearted. He was tried 
and condemned. Before the term of his imprison- 
ment expired, a disease of the brain, of which 
probably the theft was the early symptom, devel- 
oped itself, and he became idiotic, and died. 

A few gifted people are able to do good on an 
almost gigantic scale. There has been one Howard, 
one Isaac T. Hopper, one Florence Nightingale, one 



POOE AXD FRIENDLESS. 31 

Dorothy Dix. It would be well if single men and 
single women of leisure and wealth, or leisure with 
sufficient means of living, should swell the class to 
which these belong. I could speak, if I felt at liberty 

to do so, of one instance, at least, where the same 
spirit by which it is animated, dwelling in the 
breast of a noble woman, has inspired and enabled 
her to maintain the three-fold character of a cap- 
ital housekeeper, a devoted wife and mother, and a 
most efficient philanthropist. I will only say, that 
one day of every week has been devoted by her to 
visiting the Tombs, and that it rarely happens, 
when I have the privilege of stopping a few days 
at her house, that I do not hear of a visit, or a let- 
ter, as a token of grateful acknowledgment, re- 
ceived from some person rescued by her, perhaps 
years before, from misery and destruction. 

There are, in her house, several little clocks, my 
inquiries about which elicited the following story: 

Mrs. saw one day, at the Tombs, a poor 

woman who had been found in the streets unable 
to give any account of herself, and taken up as a 
vagrant. My friend applied the golden key which 
Providence put into her hand, far better than a 
"silver spoon in her mouth," to open the hearts 
and minds of his suffering people to this " Com- 
forter," appointed and sent by him, and learned the 
following story. The supposed vagrant had been 
brought to Xew York by a worthless husband, and 



32 RELATIONS WITH THE 

placed in a boarding-house, where he remained 
with her some little time, and then deserted her, 
leaving her no means of living whatever, and tak- 
ing away all her clothes except those she wore. She 
was a perfect stranger in the city. "When the people 
at whose house she lodged, discovered that she had 
no money, they turned her into the street. The 
poor woman seems to have been stunned, at first, 
by this accumulation of misery, and had not recov- 
ered from this state when she was first taken up. 
The comforter had her removed to a proper place 
of refuge, found employment for her, and put her 
in the way of supporting herself. At the end of a 
year, she returned to a village in Connecticut, from 
which she had come. Meanwhile, news came of 
the death of her husband, and she subsequently 
married the clock-maker, whose gratitude in her 
behalf was manifested in the way I have spoken of. 
This was a case of great misfortune only. Gen- 
erally, those whom the comforter rescues from 
perdition, are sufferers from their own misconduct. 
I was sitting, one evening, in her house when 
some wedding-cards were brought in, the sight 
of which evidently produced a very agreeable ex- 
citement. Presently, in explanation, she told me 
the story of the young man who had sent them, 
to whom, for convenience, I shall give a name 
— " Joseph Sharpe." In one of her semi-weekly 
visits to the Tombs, while going her round there, 



POOE AXD FRIENDLESS. 33 

she was attracted by the countenance of this youth, 
and asked him to tell her his story. He said that 
he had been for two or three years clerk to a mer- 
chant in the city, during which time he had borne 
a good character for honesty ; but, afterwards, 
having fallen into bad company, he had been in- 
duced to steal money from his employer, for which 
offense he was now imprisoned. She promised, if 
she found his story true, to intercede with his em- 
ployer and the proper authorities for his release, 
and endeavor to put him again in the way of earn- 
ing an honest support. A clergyman from some 
country village, accidentally present, and equally 
interested with herself in the young man's appear- 
ance, said to her, "Madam, I will give you my 
address, and, if you succeed in this work of mercy 3 
I shall be glad to render you any aid in my power 
in Joseph's behalf." She found his story true, 
obtained his release, and wrote to the clergyman 
an account of her success. He responded imme- 
diately, offering to give him a home and instruction- 
for some services to be rendered by him, during 
the winter. His pecuniary means were small, and 
this was all he could do, but it proved a great 
deal. A home for a culprit is difficult to procure, 
even in a so-called Christian land, whose inhab^ 
itants regard themselves as disciples of the Master 
who said, w Xeither do I condemn thee ; go, and 
sin no more." 



34 RELATIONS WITII THE 

In the spring, the clergyman procured a situa- 
tion for Joseph in a country store. He was found 
capable and faithful, advanced steadily to better 
and better preferment, and became a prosperous, 
respected man, until at length came the wedding- 
cards, telling of a happy marriage. A volume 
might be filled with incidents of a similar charac- 
ter, that will make up the " book of record" of 
this comforter's life. 

It is much easier to give money to the poor than 
time and sympathy ; for, in the moral, as in the 
material world, what is most valuable costs most, 
and abounds least. Few who have any thought 
at all on the subject of moral duty, can fail to 
adopt some rule as to the amount of money it is 
proper for them to bestow in charities. I have 
been told of a farmer who, on beginning married 
life, decided, with his wife's concurrence, to adopt 
the old Jewish rule, and give the tithe of his in- 
come " to the service of the Lord." This they 
have always done, and are still doing. The bless- 
ing of the Lord has seemed to be upon them, and 
everything lias prospered in their hands. 

A } r oung woman whom I know, la}^s aside a cer- 
tain proportion of the allowance her father makes 
her for her personal expenses, to be used for the 
poor, and no pressure, no exigency, will ever in- 
duce her to appropriate any portion of it to her- 
self. She seems to regard it as not her own, and 



POOE AXD FEIEXDLESS. 3-5 

in using it for herself, would almost feel as if she 
had committed a theft. 

This, I think, is an excellent practice ; for, while 
it insures the performance of a high duty, it culti- 
vates economy and self-denial All young per- 
sons should make some rule for themselves on this 
subject. 

Human nature is so imperfect, that our very 
virtues may become temptations. In what other 
words could our Saviour have so impressively con- 
veyed his sense of the danger of a self-righteous 
benevolence, or have guarded us more carefully 
against it, than by the injunction, "Let not your 
left hand know what your right hand doeth." 



Since I wrote this chapter, an instance of most 
pitiful dealing with a poor, honest, hard-working 
laundress, on the part of a wealthy woman from 
one of our cities, has come to my knowledge, and 
reminded me that I have forgotten one topic winch 
it should have included. This woman attempted, 
deliberately, to defraud-, her employee of half the 
sum due to her — the whole being only a few dol- 
lars — and would have done so, but for the inter- 
ference of" a friend in need," belonging to a fam- 
ily whose position gives them influence. 

Instances of very hard dealing with the working 
poor, I fear, are not very uncommon. I have 



36 RELATIONS WITH THE 

often known them, and they are not unfrequently 
committed on the part of those whose wealth is 
their distinction, and who are proud of living in 
the Fifth Avenues of our cities. What right- 
minded person would accept the fullest, richest 
purse, accompanied with such meanness of heart, 
and leanness of soul ? What impoverishment of 
all that makes existence worth having, does a dis- 
position so niggardly imply ? Listen, O ye who 
" grind the faces of the poor," to those words of 
everlasting utterance — "Inasmuch as ye have done 
it unto the least of these my brethren, ye have 
done it unto me." There is denunciation of this 
crime all through Holy Writ. I have sometimes 
thought that there is hardly any other I would 
not as soon dare commit. Judas betrayed his Mas- 
ter for a few paltry pieces of silver, and whoso, 
calling himself a Christian, defrauds the poor of 
their rightful earnings, repeats the crime of Judas. 
I beseech you, deal not only justly, but generous- 
ly, with the class whose cause I am pleading. 
Their lot is often a very hard one, the contrast 
between their condition and yours so great, that 
the absence of envy and discontent on their part 
implies great merit ; and yet, as a class, they are 
patient, gentle, and more kind and generous in 
giving their sympathy, and sharing their scanty 
means with those in greater need than themselves, 
than they who are " well to do" in the world. 



POOR AND FRIENDLESS. 37 

Compare, as to nobleness of soul, the two women 
of whom I have spoken. The laundress can get 
employment only a few months in the pleasant 
part of the year ; her husband is intemperate, and 
does little or nothing for the support of his family. 
Daring the past winter she asked a lady, who be- 
friends her, to advance her money for the purchase 
of a barrel of flour. All the washing she could 
get amounted only to fifty cents a week. She had 
laid up no stores for the winter bat a few bushels 
of potatoes ; yet every time her earnings had 
amounted to a dollar, she regularly brought the 
dollar to pay for the flour. " But how can you 
spare it V" was often asked ; " how do you live?" 
" Oh, I get along," was the reply, as her eyes filled 
with tears. This I call a noble woman, worthy to 
look down upon, and compassionate her who would 
have done her wrong, although occupying, accord- 
ing to the world's estimate, an elevated position. 



CHAPTER IV. 



RELATIONS WITH SERVANTS. 



In connection with our relations with the poor, 
it may not be out of place to speak of those which 
we should hold to servants. As young ladies, you 
may have some responsibilities in regard to them — 
as married women, you must have some of them in 
your care and keeping, on whom you, in your 
turn, will be dependent for very important serv- 
ices to yourself. Here, again, as in every other 
department of human life, a mode of proceeding 
based upon truly Christian principles is the only 
right, and, therefore, the only successful mode. 
Let those who serve you see that you take a real, 
friendly interest in them, as your fellow-creatures, 
as belonging to the great human family, whom 
Christ came into the world to redeem from sin and 
suffering; that you care for their comfort; that 
you are sorry for their trials and misfortunes, their 
pains and their sicknesses ; that you are willing, in 
all emergencies, to aid them with your counsel; 
in short, that they are embraced within the cir- 
cle of your sympathies, instead of being regarded 



RELATIONS WITH SERVANTS. 39 

as mere soulless machines, contrived for your 
benefit, which have no sensitiveness, and can bear 
any amount of hard usage and indifference. Be 
patient with their failings, their infirmities, their 
shortcomings. Is it not often true that we de- 
mand a more thorough performance of duty from 
our servants than from ourselves, and that we 
blame them for faults occasionally committed, that 
we are ourselves habitually guilty of? For in- 
stance, I have known one whose besetting sin it 
was to forget, all the day through, things that 
ought to be remembered, bring tears to the eyes of 
a sensitive girl, in waiting at dinner, by a stern 
reproof administered because, when he came to it 
later than the rest of the family, she forgot to put 
a hot plate before him. If there were a being 
in the world so free from infirmity, so secure 
against any shortcoming in duty, that his conduct 
never called for the exercise of patience and for- 
bearance on the part of others, such an one perhaps' 
would have a right to demand a perfect perform- 
ance of it to himself from all connected with 
him ; but he would be the last to do so, and would 
be far more tolerant of human infirmity wherever 
found, than those who are ail the time exhibiting 
it in their own persons. 

Much that is trying in servants often proceeds 
from mere narrow-mindedness ; they can see only 
as those see who walk in a dark nisrht with a Ian- 



40 RELATIONS WITH SERVANTS. 

tern, which throws the light a short distance straight 
before them, so that they are quite blind to any- 
thing bearing on their course that should induce 
them to alter it. In such cases you must conde- 
scend, if condescension it be, to reason with them, 
and endeavor to enlighten them. 

Being generally children in knowledge, they 
should be treated, in some respects, as we treat 
children — much of whose wrong-doing comes from 
thoughtlessness, and confused indefinite percep- 
tions of right and wrong. We make allowance 
for the sick, the lame, and the blind, forbearing to 
require from them that for which their peculiar con- 
dition unfits them. We should make equal allow- 
ance for moral and intellectual infirmities, and, 
therefore, not expect a proper use of reason in one 
who has never been led to use her reasoning 
powers — habitual self-control in one never trained 
in the proper government of her temper — nor broad 
and comprehensive views of duty in those who 
are necessarily narrow-minded through a want of 
that enlargement, which can come only from edu- 
cation. I had in my service many years an excel- 
lent woman, so perfectly faithful and reliable, so 
unfailing in her routine of duties, that she per- 
petually reminded me of the following stanza in a 
hymn which I learned when I was a little child : 

" So, like the sun, would I fulfil 
The business of the day, 
Begin my work betimes, and still 
Maixii on my heavenly way." 



RELATIONS WITH SERVANTS 41 

Yet her extreme narrowness of mind showing 
itself in a great jealousy of the slightest addition 
to her regular work, as well as in other ways, 
abated considerably, not from her value, but from 
my enjoyment of her. It really prevented the 
proper expansion of her heart, which was a very 
good heart. She had a peevish disposition, and 
although habitually her maimers were very respect- 
ful, this peevishness occasionally, though rarely, 
would be indulged to impertinence. 

On such occasions it was my habit to wait until 
she had returned to better temper, sometimes until 
the following day, and then set the matter quietly 
before her in its true light, as thus : 

" Bridget how could you speak to me in that 
way '?" 

" Oh, it is just my way sometimes, Mrs. S." 

" But it should not be your way ; you know I 
am never otherwise than courteous and considerate 
in my manners to you ; and, besides, your own self- 
respect should prevent your ever speaking thus to 
any one." 

U Well, ma'am, I'm very sorry !" 

Meanwhile, her eyes would fill with tears, and 
many months would pass without any repetition of 
the same offence. 

Such a course of treatment is almost sure to 
bring back an offender to a right state of feeling, 
and yet I know that it is not unfrecjuently thought 



42 RELATIONS WITH SERVANTS. 

right and best, even by conscientious women, to 
dismiss a servant abruptly, who offends in so 
serious a manner. One clause of the Lord's 
Prayer always occurs to me, when such occasions 
of duty arise, " Forgive us our trespasses, as we 
forgive those who trespass against us." If our 
Heavenly Father were to deal with us summarily, 
what disaster and destruction would come upon us ! 
Sometimes occasions occur when apology is due 
from the mistress. Is it ever made ? Yes, I 
knew one instance, which I have never forgotten. 
A relative of mine, a woman of excellent and truly 
religious character, had also some infirmities of 
temper. One day she administered a harsh, severe 
reproof to her cook, a member, I think, of the same 
church as herself, which, as she afterwards dis- 
covered or remembered, was quite undeserved. 
The next day she confessed her fault, and asked 
forgiveness. The good servant's eyes filled with 
tears as she said : " This makes me think of what 
my minister told us, that in Heaven there will be 
no ladies and gentlemen, but all will be brethren !" 
A harsh, abrupt, unkind treatment of servants 
is often the result of bad temper on the part of 
the employers, unchecked by Christian principle; 
and sometimes, strange and painful to say, it is de- 
liberately adopted and practised, chiefly, however, 
by the vulgar rich, denominated " parvenues," 
under the idea that it is a mark and bad^e of hiirh 



GELATIONS WITH SERVANTS. 43 

estate, whereas, it belongs to pure, unmitigated 
snobbishness. No person of real refinement, will 
indulge in coarseness of any sort. She will be de- 
terred by self-respect, if not by consideration to 
others. 

Servants, and the class to which they belong, 
have often nice discrimination in character and 
manners. They distinguish between what is false, 
and what is genuine — what is real, and what pre- 
tended — what is vulgar, and what refined. In or- 
der that they may render you faithful and willing 
service, you must secure, first of all, their respect, 
by your character and their affection, by kind and 
friendly treatment. You must manifest, in your deal- 
ings with them, the justice, the truth, the good tem- 
per, the fidelity to principle, which you wish them 
to practice towards you ; and show yourselves as 
much devoted to their interests, as' you wish they 
should be to yours. When, in spite of all your 
efforts, they are wayward or unfaithful, bear with 
them as patiently as possible, remembering the 
condition on which we are permitted to ask for- 
giveness of God for our transgressions, and remem- 
bering, too, how much better we ought to be than 
they, on account of our greater advantages. 

Every house has its atmosphere, favorable or un- 
favorable to the growth of the " fruits of the 
spirit," love, joy, peace, etc., and the same is true 
of each member of the family — and it is the resort 



44 RELATIONS WITH SERVANTS. 

of good spirits or evil spirits, according to the na- 
ture of this atmosphere. I have seen a stout, capa- 
ble, energetic girl, of a temper very strong, and a 
little defiant, kept spell-bound, as it were, by the 
magic of the soft silvery voice, and the quiet, sweet 
ways of a mistress who, nevertheless, required, in 
her gentle manner, a very strict and thorough per- 
formance of duty on her part. A girl who lived a 
long time in the service of "the uncle" remarked, 
years afterwards, " jSTorah and I used to say, that 
always after he had passed through the kitchen, 
and spoken to us, we could do our work a great 
deal better, and it did not tire us at all." 

That " a low voice is an excellent thing in 
woman " is not among the least of the wise utter- 
ances of the great poet-philosopher. It is related 
of Miss Dix that, in one of the many prisons whose 
doors she has unbarred, like an angel, for the de- 
liverance of the wretched insane confined in them, 
a maniac was of so dangerous a character that, 
although he was strongly fettered, she was warned 
not to go very near him. She sat down at a little 
distance from him, and while he was screaming, as 
was his wont all the day long, she began to read, 
in a low voice, some portions of Scripture. He 
stopped, listened, and, when she ceased, said, 
" Read me some more ; it does me good !" The 
low sweet voice, however, to be effective, must be 
natural — the genuine music of the heart. 



EELATIOXS WITH SEKYANTS. 45 

One source of injustice towards servants, and 
consequent disagreement with them, is the failure 
to recognize in them certain feelings and certain 
wants, corresponding with our own. 

They, as well as we, have need of some freedom, 
some variety, some gratification of their social na- 
ture. It is therefore wrong and unreasonable to 
keep them always at their post, and debar them 
from intercourse with their friends and acquaintan- 
ces — though, this, of course, must be restrained 
within reasonable limits. I hope it is no longer 
necessary, at the present day, to insist upon proper 
provision for their personal comfort, in well-venti- 
lated, well-appointed bedrooms, convenient kitch- 
ens, and every facility for rendering work easier 
and lighter. 

That mistress ought to rank herself with the 
heathen, who scrimps her servants in space, air, 
light, food, water, or warmth ; and consider her- 
self a robber, if she withholds from them, on any 
pretext whatever, their honest wages. 

One important topic still occurs to me, in con- 
nection with servants, viz., the treatment of those 
who are detected in crime. I beseech you, com- 
mit not yourselves the greater crime — whatever 
theirs may be — of bringing them to public justice 
for any first offence, or for any offence of small 
magnitude. This seems to me a sin at which hell 
itself might cry out, although it is one of frequent 



46 RELATIONS WITH SERVANTS. 

occurrence. Among the educated classes, and un- 
der circumstances where no temptation exists for 
gaining by theft what cannot be had by other 
means, the propensity to that vice is often seen, 
not in children merely, but even in adults — seen, 
and overlooked. And yet, the habitual custom of 
society is xo visit upon mere children, ignorant and 
poverty-stricken, or upon servants, upon whom 
temptation comes- as an armed man to make them 
his victim, the smallest dereliction from honesty, 
with the utmost severity that the law will permit, 
and in a form that may involve the robbing them 
of their own souls. How is such a robbery to be 
answered in the court of Heaven ? 

When the poor steal to satisfy their hunger, it 
is time for the rich, whom God has appointed to 
be his stewards, to fear and tremble, lest they 
shall be written down as " unjust." If Christians 
of every community did their full duty, the hungry 
and the naked would all be cared for, the sick and 
the prisoners all visited, the ignorant all instructed. 
But alas ! though much is done for this large class, 
a great deal is left undone, and, in spite of our 
Saviour's own words to the contrary, the belief 
still prevails that ceremonial observances are a 
more acceptable offering to God, than benefits con- 
ferred upon his creatures. 

The following pleasant anecdote is related of 
the Colonial Governor Winthrop. During a very 



RELATIONS WITH SERVANTS. 47 

hard winter, he was told that a certain poor man 
was in the habit of taking wood from his pile 
every night. 

He replied, "Send him to me, I'll cure him' 
of stealing." When the man was brought, he 
said to him, " Friend, the winter is very severe, 
and I dare say you have no wood for your family. 
Help yourself at my pile, until the cold weather 
is over." Then, when the man had gone out, he 
asked, " Now, have I not cured him of stealing? " 

Something better this, than sending him to pine 
in jail, to have his spirit broken by disgrace, or 
corrupted by evil companionship. 

There was once sent to the jail, in our county 
town, a poor Irish girl, on the charge of stealing 
a wooden pencil and a penknife. Hearing that 
she was very ill, I went to see her, and she told me 
she had entered the prison in good health, but that 
she never should be well until her foot would step 
on the green earth once more, Her story was, that 
a fellow-servant who had a grudge against her, 
and had often threatened to do her some harm, 
placed these paltry articles on a shelf where her 
clothes were kept, on purpose to bring suspicion 
upon her. It was certainly very unlikely that she 
would take articles of which she could make no 
possible use, for she could neither read nor write ; 
but whether guilty or not, I determined that bail 
should be procured for her, if possible, and succeed- 



48 RELATIONS WITH SERVANTS. 

ed in obtaining it. It was some months before 
her case could be presented to a jury, and then no 
bill was found against her. Now, even admitting 
that she was guilty of the specified theft, what 
comparison is there between her wrong to the em- 
ployer, who charged her with it, and the wrong he 
did to her? She may possibly have intended to 
rob him of property to the value of twenty-five 
or fifty cents. He robbed her, temporarily, at 
least, of her health, her reputation, and her peace 
of mind, and also of three months of her time, 
which, to the laboring poor, is their only money. 
In my opinion, it is wicked so to proceed against 
possible or probable offenders of this sort. A 
few kind words, setting forth the folly and wrong 
of any departure from strict honesty, or a promise 
to provide for any little unsatisfied wants that 
might press upon her, and still to trust her, and 
give her a chance to redeem her character would 
have been far more in consonance with the exam- 
ple of the Spotless One. But the erring deal 
hardly with their fellow-sinners. 

A servant-girl once attempted, as I have every 
reason to believe, to poison me. She was half 
crazed with shame and anger, at being detected in 
stealing, after having for years borne an excellent 
character for honesty. Our relation to her was of 
a peculiar character, and she was retained in the 
house some weeks after the occurrence. During 



RELATIONS WITH SERVANTS. 49 

that time it happened that she saw me one day in 
great distress, when I was alone in my own room, 
and with an evident desire to do something for me, 
expressive of her pity, she brought me a cup of 
tea, which I drank without hesitation, for she was 
now " clothed, and in her right mind." Anger is 
said to be temporary madness, so, also, is often the 
impulse that leads to a single act of crime. 
3 



CHAPTER Y. 



MANNERS. 



So much upon this subject must be indirectly 
suggested by what I say on nearly every other 
upon which I write to you, that I hesitate whether 
to make it a distinct theme. On the whole, how- 
ever, I believe it is better to do so. 

I do not think that people in general are aware 
of the importance of pleasing, agreeable manners. 
The difference between two households, in the one 
of which they are found and in the other not, is as 
that between two gardens, in one of which the 
flowers have no odor, while in the other, fragrance 
is everywhere diffused ; or, as between a gloomy, 
silent cavern, and a bower of evergreen made joy- 
ous by singing birds. They are therefore a means 
of happiness. As a means of influence, too, they 
should receive direct culture, which, in this view 
indeed, becomes of moral obligation. I believe 
that, in the long run, they have more influence 
than beauty, or anything else merely personal. 
That the wicked have often made a mask of them, 
as, for instance, was said to be the case with one of 
the worst men that ever lived (Caesar Borgia), does 



MANNERS. 51 

not abate from their desirableness. Has not every 
precious thing its counterfeit, and is not the danger 
of false imitations increased in proportion to its in- 
trinsic value ? 

How are good manners to be formed ? I do not 
mean conventional manners, for of these every 
country has a different code, and what is comme il 
fatit in one, is condemned in another. And the code 
attaches, often, so much importance to mere trivi- 
alities, as whether an egg should be eaten from the 
shell or from a cup ; whether it is proper for one at 
a dinner to challenge another in a glass of wine, 
etc., that I wonder how people of wide observation, 
and extended knowledge of men and things, can 
regard any one of its provisions as more than a lex 
loci. You will easily distinguish between these 
and other rules that have their basis in reason — 
and therefore are of natural obligation ; a3 for in- 
stance, not to speak with one's mouth full, or 
drink before wiping the mouth, or make a 
noise upon the plate with one's knife and fork or 
spoon, or take any liquid from cup or spoon audi- 
bly. The operation of eating is in itself a little 
gross, and should be refined as much as possible. 
Yet it is quite common, I believe, for every travel- 
ler to judge the manners of a foreign people by the 
standard of etiquette established in his own coun- 
try,- and condemn every departure from it as a proof 
of barbarism. 



52 MANNERS. 

No doubt, in all countries certain customs arise 
from what convenience and refinement require, and 
are essentially right and proper on that account ; 
but this is true only of a portion of them, as the 
different observances of different countries prove — 
and with all these diversities, there will probably be 
found some general agreement on what is most 
truly essential — as is true in systems of religion. 
The core, the root, the living principle, the essence 
of good manners, such as are not dependent on any 
code, as of every thing else good, must be found in 
the heart ; and their most comprehensive definition 
is, in a nation of Christians, Christian courtesy. The 
best are the natural, genuine expression of a heart 
filled to overflowing with love and good-will to- 
wards the whole human race, with a desire to avoid 
giving pain, and to add in every way to the stock 
of human happiness. A person possessed with 
this desire will manifest it in the tone of his voice, 
in the gracious beaming of his eye, in the friendly 
grasp of his hand. He can never omit the thousand 
little attentions to the comfort and pleasure of oth- 
ers that he may have an opportunity to bestow. 
He will be in no danger of encroaching upon them 
in any way unreasonably, of making any undue 
claims on them, of infringing any of their rights, of 
seeking his own advantage to their loss or incon- 
venience. He will be always considerate, always 
kind — always delicate and unobtrusive. It is this 



MANNERS. 53 

kind of courtesy that may be always sincere. It 
being once asked in a party, where the " uncle " 
was, some one replied, " Ascertain who is the 
dullest and most uninteresting woman in the room, 
and you will find him at her side." In devoting 
himself to those whom he was sure others would 
neglect, he was guilty of no insincerity. A motive 
of true kindness brought him to them. And if 
such a motive were always a governing principle 
in the intercourse of society, the vexed question, 
how truth is always to be reconciled with cour- 
tesy, would be forever settled. One might honestly 
profess a willingness and pleasure in doing that 
which otherwise would be tedious and disagreea- 
ble, and make use of expressions which would 
otherwise be untrue. We may be glad to see vis- 
itors for their sakes, whom we should not much de- 
sire on our own account. At the same time, lest 
we may fall into the habit, naturally and easily 
adopted, of using strong expressions, such as con- 
vey more feeling than exists at all, or certainly 
more than is habitual, whatever the enthusiasm of 
the moment may be, it is well to guard against 
them, even in our honest intercourse with our fel- 
low-men ; and form the habit of expressing our- 
selves more by action than by profession. 

If our Christian gentleman receives ill-treatment 
or insult from others, he shows himself the true 
Christian gentleman still — not bringing himself to 



54 MANNERS. 

their level by quarrelling or railing, according to 
the old "barbarous system of " eye for eye," and 
" tooth for tooth." He cannot, under any cir- 
cumstances, be a heathen. 

This motive of self-respect for abstaining, under 
provocation, from the indulgence of high temper, 
and angry words, I have found useful, when a high- 
er one failed, to enforce upon young people ; and 
upon the ignorant, and therefore narrow-minded, 
such as constitute a large majority of servants and 
laboring people, and not a very small proportion 
of the so-called cultivated classes. 

Manners, in a few instances, are the direct pro- 
duct of nature, perfect in kind, and needing no im- 
provement. Generally, however, like every other 
high attainment, they need direct cultivation, and 
a child cannot be too carefully trained in this re- 
spect. I do not mean by a dancing-master, though 
he may be a valuable assistant in one way, viz., in 
making the limbs supple and skilful to obey grace- 
fully the commands of the will. His office bears 
the same relation to the mother's, in this instance, 
as that of the tuner of the instrument, to his 
who draws music from it. The silent music of 
sweet and gentle manners requires, first of all, the 
cultivation of reverence — a beautiful sentiment, es- 
sential to the uplifting of man above a low, grovel- 
ling condition. Full of significance are the analo- 
gies of nature, by which almost every subject con- 



MANNERS. 55 

nected with the soul, or with life, is illustrated. I 
think it is Cicero who said that, whereas all other 
animals have their heads prone, so that their eyes 
look upon the ground, man is made erect so that he 
can see the heavens. We behold high above us 
the magnificent firmament, and our thoughts are 
carried farther still — to Him who created it. How 
miserable and hopeless our condition would be, if 
we had nothing higher than ourselves to look up 
to. We should end by crawling in the dust and 
mire of earth. Let your child, then, look up to 
those who are above him in years and in know- 
ledge, and give them the respect due on that ac- 
count. Especially let this respect be evinced to- 
wards his benefactors, his parents, and those who 
are intrusted with his education. Let him rise up 
in the presence of the aged, and pay respect to the 
hoary head. Those parents greatly wrong their 
children, who allow them to be guilty of any want 
of respect towards themselves, in word or action. 
The least offence of this kind should be treated in 
the most serious manner, and as one not easily to 
be overlooked. Eob your child's soul of reverence, 
and you rob it of a jewel — essential to its full 
lustre and richness. There is no need, in order to 
insure it, to keep him at a distance- from you. 
Only be careful, that the nearer he approaches 
you, the more he discovers in you that is worthy 
of reverence. Those who most truly serve God, 



56 MANNERS. 

and most nearly resemble him, live nearest to 
him. 

Next to reverence, cultivate thoughtfulness or 
consideration for others. Many in whom good 
manners are not a spontaneous growth, would 
acquire them by this means alone, who, from a 
want of it, are perfectly unconscious how many 
opportunities they lose, daily, hourly, almost mo- 
mently, of making themselves acceptable and agree- 
able to those with whom they associate — and in 
how many ways they give offence, and render 
themselves disagreeable. To be well-mannered, 
one must be unselfish — so that, on this account, as 
well as because they are a means of influence, the 
cultivation of good manners is a moral duty. It is 
a very charming mode, apjDlicable even to a very 
young child, of beginning the life-long process es- 
sential to our proper growth, development, and 
progress, viz., living out of ourselves, and for 
others. This consideration must be enforced by 
kindness. The law of love must be inculcated — 
" line upon line " and " precept upon precept " — 
until it becomes written on the heart, and dwells 
ever upon the lips. Occasionally, instances are 
met with, of a great want of correspondence between 
the manners and the character, so that the former 
are not at all a proper expression of the latter. 
For instance, warm and kind-hearted people have 
sometimes what are termed cold manners, so that 



MANNERS. 57 

you must know them intimately, in order to ascer- 
tain that they have a warm heart within. Such 
cases always puzzle me, but I do not think they 
are often met with, and they are probably resolv- 
able into some peculiarity of physical temperament. 
I remember a newspaper joke, of which John 
Quincy Adams was the subject, many years ago, 
of whom it was said, that he had passed through 
New York, and several persons had taken cold from 
shaking hands with him. His coldness of manner 
made him unpopular, and kept people at a distance 
from him ; and yet he was so true-hearted a patriot, 
and so valuable were the services he rendered his 
country, that in the latter years of his life, when, 
in consequence of going to Cincinnati to lay the 
corner-stone of some new edifice, he travelled 
through several of the States, the people thronged, 
as one man, to do him honour, and his progress 
was an ovation. This surprised and deeply moved 
him. I saw him at Pittsfield, when he had got 
back to his own State, and heard him allude, with 
deep feeling, to the manifestation of good-will he 
had everywhere received, and then to the still 
greater value to him, of such testimony from his 
own State. He applied to himself the words of 
the Shunamite, who, when asked what reward 
should be given her for healing the King's son, 
replied: "I dwell among mine own people" — as if 

that circumstance placed her above want of any sort. 
3* 



58 MANNERS. 

This great man may have learned only in this 
late period of his life, the value of that sympathy 
which, in manner at least, he had always rejected. 

It is the young only who can be trained in man- 
ners. The only refiners of manners in society, are 
those who present a worthy model of them, in 
themselves. I have known very ill manners ex- 
hibited in criticisms on the manners of others. I 
shall have written upon this subject in vain, if any 
of my readers remain in the belief, that good man- 
ners are needed only in polite society. They be- 
long so essentially to him who really possesses 
them, are so much a part of himself, that he never 
lays them aside. He finds them as natural and 
proper in the company of his inferiors as of his 
equals ; and so he wins the affection of each one, 
and establishes an influence over them which aids 
in making them, too, Christians and gentlemen. 
One sometimes sees mistress and servant together, 
and finds the real lady in the latter, in so far as 
that phrase embodies the idea of true refinement. 

I feel very much the importance of my present 
theme, and my incompetence to do it justice. 
Universal kindly, courteous manners would be as 
oil to all the machinery of society. He who has 
them, diffuses throughout the whole sphere in 
which he moves, a refining and elevating influence. 
He carries with them, on the highways of life, re- 
freshment to the weary traveller, balm to the sor- 



MANNERS. 59 

rowing, cheer to the despondent, and a sense of 
comfort and gratification to all. The angry man 
becomes quiet in his presence; the rude man, civil ; 
the overburthened man stronger to uplift himself 
beneath his burthens; the timid man confident; 
the humble man reassured of his claim to equality 
with his brother-man ; and the criminal feels a fore- 
shadowing of God's mercy to the penitent. 

" The spirit of G-od brooded over the face of the 
waters." The spirit of man should so brood over 
the waters of social life, as to bring out of them 
peace, order, beauty and harmony. He should 
never wake a discordant tone in the heart of a fel- 
low-being. He should never disappoint him of a 
fraternal recognition. He should never smite his 
spirit, and wound him with words sharper than a 
two-edged sword ; or use a tone and manner, the 
effect of which is much like that of a slap in the 
face. The one indignity would not be greater than 
the other. This is quite as likely to be done with- 
out provocation as with it, by those who do not 
recognize the claims of human brotherhood. Re- 
member, always, that whoso does any of these 
things to the man, does them to his great Master. 



CHAPTER VI. 



THE LOVE OF NATURE. 



Most of you will remember one or more delight- 
ful excursions that we have taken together to see 
the beautiful scenery, both in the northern and 
southern part of Berkshire county, and what a 
gay, happy party we always made. It is a great 
blessing to live in the midst of beautiful scenery 
from which one can have daily draughts of refresh- 
ment to the soul, and find pleasant by-paths from 
the dusty highway of life ; and it is delightful some- 
times to go in search of what is lovely and grand 
in nature, that is beyond our own surroundings. 
Pursuit has a charm of its own that it superadds 
to every object pursued. It is well to enrich, as 
much as possible, the picture gallery of the mem- 
ory. There is, besides, great benefit to mind and 
body, in occasional change of air, of scene, and of 
occupation. 

From an early period in my life as teacher, I 
have had the habit of taking my pupils on an ex- 
cursion at some distance, once every summer. 
The failure to do so has been a rare exception ; 



THE LOYE OF NATURE. 61 

and I have given them opportunities to become 
familiar with the high places of nature in our own 
vicinity, made for the purest worship, and with 
all her most attractive resorts and hiding-places. 

I have been led to believe that, generally, the 
love of nature, like every other principle of the 
human mind, although it exists, requires cultiva- 
tion for its development — I mean in a majority of 
instances. la some, it is so strong and vigorous, 
that it expands of itself. To be without it, is a 
great misfortune, for it is in fact, to be blind, in a 
most important sense — blind to the glory and 
beauty of God's wonderful works, to all he has 
made that can fill the soul with rapture, through 
the mere seeing of the eye ; deaf to ten thousand 
voices that she utters continually to man — quick- 
ening in him what is best and highest in his na- 
ture, and helping to spiritualize it ; and incapable 
of a communion through nature, with nature's 
God — with whom it is desirable that his creatures 
should be put by every possible means, in con- 
scious perceptible relation. It having been, there- 
fore, my study to cultivate it in my pupils, I have 
considered all our excursions near and distant, as 
a part of this training; and I have seen its effect 
even upon our drivers, who have driven us fre- 
quently. They would often of their own accord, 
point out beautiful scenes and objects. 

I had one pupil with me, for three years, I 



62 THE LOVE OF NATURE. 

think, a young girl, who disclaimed all love of 
nature ; and I believe she was quite sincere, in say- 
ing, that no matter what scenery might be in 
view from the windows of a room, she had as lief 
look inside, as outside of it. On our excursions, 
she liked very much the release from school, the 
freedom, the gaiety, and the fun ; but the route 
was quite indifferent to her. On her third visit 
to Bashpish Falls, however, her sudden " conver- 
sion" took place in this wise. After a night 
through which the rain poured incessantly, we 
awoke to a gloriously bright morning, which we 
hailed with acclamations — such as the Persians 
may be supposed to have used, when greeting the 
rising sun, on his great festival day — and set off 
for the Falls, about eight o'clock, by a road which 
leads down the mountain from Milo Smith's, to a 
part of Hillsdale. This road is not often taken, 
because there is one much shorter, that leads di- 
rectly to the Falls ; but it is a great pity to forego, 
on that account, what it offers. At a very sudden 
sharp turn in it, you come upon a " valley of 
vision" indeed, " stretching" far and wide " to 
where t'.ie sky stoops" over it, upon a wall of 
rich, grain-covered mountains, themselves sur- 
mounted by the blue ethereal peaks of the Cats- 
kills. On this morning, the valley was necked all 
over with patches of the rising mist, not so as to 
obscure it, but to add to its enchantment, as a veil, 



THE LOVE OF NATURE. 63 

partially lifted, enhances that of a beautiful face. 
Fourteen of us were in the dear old open omni- 
bus. A simultaneous exclamation of delight rose, 
like a shout, from all — and Julia's enthusiasm 
seemed quite equal to that of the rest. "Ah, Ju- 
lia !" I said, " you are caught, at last !" and from 
that moment, her love of nature has been a per- 
petually increasing fountain of delight to her. If, 
therefore, you have what is called a family school, 
I advise you not to overlook this department of 
education, and I advise all mothers to give it due 
attention. 

I once sat by a brook with a very little child, 
who listened intently for a little time, and then 
said, in a soft, sweet voice : " Mother, I love to 
hear the pretty water." Another little child, 
standing by the window at sunset, and listening 
to the wind, said : " Mother, what does the wind 
say to me ?" She knew already that it had a lan- 
guage. There are a thousand pretty sayings of 
children about the moon and the stars. Perhaps 
one of the prettiest fancies was that of a child, 
who thought the stars were " gimlet-holes, to let 
the glory through." As in the infancy of the 
world, men are supposed to have had communion 
with God and the angels, which was afterwards 
lost ; so in the infancy of man's being, he often 
possesses a consciousness of Nature's presence, and 
a relationship with her, which passes away, as he 



04 THE LOVE OF NATURE. 

becomes engrossed with material life, unless cher- 
ished like one of the precious germs of his being. 
Wordsworth expresses something like this senti- 
ment in the following lines : 

Heaven lies about us in our infancy : 
Shades of the prison-house begin to close 

Upon the growing boy ; 
But he beholds the light, and whence it flows, 
He sees it in his joy. 
The youth, who daily further from the East 

Must travel still, is Nature's Priest, 

And by the vision splendid 

Is on his way attended. 
At length the man perceives it die away, 
And fade into the light of common day. 

The child's heaven remains spread about him, 
its kingdom is close at hand, and he is invited " to 
come" into it, by the flowers all about him, by 
the shining of the stars, and the whispering of the 
wind. These constitute the alphabet of Nature's 
language, by which she reveals herself even to a 
little child, so that he may afterwards learn to 
read her book as a story, without an end — or he 
may become inattentive and indifferent to her, 
so that she will be to him a " sealed book," and 
even her glorious handwriting on the walls of the 
firmament shall have no more significance to him 
than an undeciphered hieroglyphic. 

It is the spirit that giveth life. The man who 
has no love of nature lives in the midst of lifeless 
unmeaning forms, from which he is quite isolated, 



THE LOYE OF NATURE. G5 

except for certain material purposes. He is not a 
part of Nature's harmonious whole, but a dry, cold 
unit. He fills his lungs with the air of heaven, 
and feeds himself on the fruits of the earth, and 
enlists the magic potency of the north star in the 
pilotage of his ships, and yet has no distinct recog- 
nition of the wonderful circle of affinities of which 
he is himself the centre, linking him with Nature 
in all her ramifications, and subjecting him to her 
most subtle influences. He is glad of a bright 
sun, because it will ripen his grain ; of clouds, be- 
cause they will pour down rain for the same pur- 
pose. He is glad of day for labor, and night for 
rest. The sun is not the king of day, but simply 
light and warmth, and the facilitator of many 
plans. The clouds are not His " pavilion round 
about Him'' who made them, but rain-sifters. 
Night is not a peerless queen, with a coronet of 
diamonds upon her brow, but darkness; day is not 
an uncovering of the fair face of Nature, and the 
filling of her countenance with light and beauty, 
but the opener of workshops and factories, the 
uplifter of signals for labor, the appointer of task- 
work. He beholds, without emotion, the per- 
petually recurring miracle of the morning's dawn — 
the newly-created day. Its freshness is not im- 
parted to his soul ; its marvellous beauty, as it 
gradually bursts into bloom, is not reflected there ; 
its hymn of joy is not heard there; its anthems 



GG THE LOVE OF NATURE. 

of praise to its great Author find there no response. 
He sees not how jocund it " stands on the misty 
mountain-tops ;" how out of its glorious chambers 
it brings out a garment of light wherewith to 
cover the earth. He has no fellowship with it — it 
does not bring a corresponding morning in his 
soul, nor enlarge it by its beautiful expansion ; it 
awakens no gratitude within him. 

But one who is in Nature's secrets, who is her 
lover, and to whom she is a friend and a revealer 
of God, has his own peculiar share in all her 
glories and beauties, and is elevated, refreshed and 
strengthened by them. They confer upon him a 
kind of state, which he will do nothing to dishonour, 
among the essential attributes of which are purity, 
refinement, and nobleness of soul. 

Gratitude to God for making the world so beau- 
tiful ought to be inculcated. I am often made 
both sorry and indignant by hearing it spoken of 
as such a miserable place. Men can mar it to any 
extent ; but God has made it lovely, and spread 
his tender mercies over it. No season is without 
its charm. In winter, nature does not die, but 
lies entranced in great pomp of state. Snow- 
covered mountains are transfigured, and their 
raiment is white and glistering. Others have a 
royal robe of blue, more magnificent than that they 
wear at any other period. The forms of the bare 
trees are so beautiful, that you are content not to 



THE LOTE OF NATURE. 67 

have them " clothed upon." The fresh snow has 
the purity of the heavens from which it falls. The 
evergreens, which it touches but to adorn, stand as 
beautiful emblems of immortality ; and the skies 
above are clear and gorgeous beyond the dream of 
a summer- wo rship23er. Notwithstanding my long 
observation of the fact, that in the dullest day, and 
when nature's aspect is most forbidding, some 
charm will be unexpectedly revealed, it has often 
surprised me to see a flash of her countenance, like 
that which an eye suddenly kindled darts over a 
human face. 

The question, of what use are the influences of 
nature, resolves itself into one, the irreverence of 
which will be easily acknowledged. Why did 
God, who does nothing in vain, make the world 
beautiful "? and give to man the perception of 
beauty ? As well ask, what need have earthly be- 
ings, whose material wants necessarily claim much 
of their time and attention, to be surrounded with 
all possible aids for the development of their spirit- 
ual natures. What need has selfish man, prone to 
be occupied with Ins own petty interests, of that 
which shall make him look away from himself"? 
What need has plodding man, whose eyes are bent 
on the ground, to have them uplifted towards God ? 
What need has vulgar man, whose nature has so 
much that is kindred with the brute, to be refined 
and elevated"? What need has sorrowing man to 



G8 THE LOVE OF NATURE. 

see God's love and pity expressed in beautiful 
symbols on every side of him ? What need has 
artistic man for nature's exquisite models and rich 
materials ? What need has weary man for refresh- 
ment procured without labor, that he can drink in 
with every sense ? What need has the poor man 
of a banquet where no payment is demanded, and 
where no one shall say to him, "Friend give 
place " — because he is in his father's house ? And 
lastly, What need has the solitary man of soothing 
companionship ? In the great sense, there is but 
one mediator between God and man. Nature is 
also a mediator between him and his creatures, be- 
cause she is a medium of influence from him, and 
of communion with him. Natural religion is the 
worthy handmaid of revealed religion, and many 
of the heathen, doubtless, have lived much nearer 
to God, in consequence of her ministrations, than 
they would otherwise have done. I have no doubt, 
too, that the asperities of religious creeds have 
been softened through her influences, and their bad 
effects in some degree corrected. 

I once heard a clergyman in the pulpit describe 
the effect upon a young man, of a sermon upon 
the awful nature of sin, and the terrible punish- 
ment that awaited the sinner of an " avenging 
God," which filled his soul with horror, and 
wrought him to a pitch of tremendous and most 
painful excitement. As he emerged from the tern- 



THE LOVE OF NATURE. 69 

pie made with, hands, into the open temple illumin- 
ated by the beautiful light of a bright summer's 
day, and carpeted with flowers, he said to himself : 
" It cannot be that he who made this world so 
beautiful is the same that the preacher has been 
presenting to us ;" and the dreadful impressions 
were softened or effaced altogether. He who told 
the story, disapproved the conclusion the young 
man arrived at, and said that God who made the 
sunshine made also the storms ; and that as his 
mercy might be inferred from the one, so might 
his wrath from the other. Those who believe in 
the harmony of all things proceeding from the 
Great Creator, will be slow to admit that there 
can be any want of correspondence between his 
works and his written word, so that the effect of 
the one will ever be to counteract that of the 
other, properly interpreted. 



CHAPTER VII. 



TRAVELLING. 



The invention of railroads has made us a nation 
of travellers ; and since so much of our life is to be 
spent upon the road, it becomes quite important 
to know how travelling may be rendered most pro- 
fitable and most pleasant, and to adopt some rules 
for our guidance in this respect. In the first place, 
I advise you to make up your mind before leaving 
home, to encounter a good deal, not only of incon- 
venience, but of positive discomfort ; to meet with 
much that is offensive in one way and another, and 
determine that you will bear it patiently, and avoid 
making yourself disagreeable by a perpetual spirit 
of complaint. The unreasonableness of a child 
who cries because he can't have the moon for a 
plaything, is hardly greater than that of travellers, 
who are excessively annoyed because they cannot 
travel in their own houses, and so take all their 
home comforts with them. I once stopped a night 
at a principal hotel in one of our cities, where a 
chambermaid, whose manners were kindly and 
pleasing, provided me with a very nice bedroom, 



TRAVELLING, 71 

and made me as comfortable as possible. I had 
been profoundly asleep for about two hours, when 
she awakened me, to say that my room had been 
previously engaged for a bride, whose arrival was 
not expected until the following day, who had 
come, however, at midnight, and was so much dis- 
pleased at the room substituted for this, that her 
vituperation had awakened all the sleepers in the 
same corridor. Would I, she asked, for the 
peace of the house, consent to change my quar- 
ters ? I replied that I would do so for her sake, be- 
cause she had been so very attentive to me. I 
could but pity the poor man who had taken such 
a fool and termagant to be the wife of his bosom, 
and the mother of his children. 

There are certain defects of temper, and dis- 
agreeable qualities of character, that betray them- 
selves under all possible circumstances. People 
who travel and know what good manners are, 
may make themselves missionaries in that depart- 
ment, as they may also of the Gospel of love. The 
rudest person feels the charm of courtesy and kind- 
liness, responding to it in the best way he can. It 
very rarely, if ever, occurs that any advance made, 
or any favor asked in the right spirit, is rudely re- 
pulsed. 

In travelling, as under all other circumstances, 
there should be some practical admission on our 
part, that we belong to the great human family, 



72 TRAVELLING. 

and regard mankind as our brethren. We should, 
therefore, be always considerate of others, not 
standing aloof, as if we were "worthier" on ac- 
count of our class or position, than they among 
whose ranks the Saviour was born ; or as if we 
could not tolerate certain deficiencies, marking 
many of that to which we ourselves belong. 

A friend of mine was travelling, many years ago, 
in the winter, by stage, from Philadelphia to New 
York. One very cold night, the stage stopped, the 
driver opened the door and said, " Gentlemen," 
(there were about a half a dozen) " there is a col- 
ored man on the seat with me who has no overcoat, 
and I think he will certainly freeze to death, if you 
do not let him come inside." No; this could not 
possibly be permitted. My friend, who was the 
only one in the minority, said, " Well, gentlemen, 
if you will not let this poor man in, I will at least 
give him my overcoat," which he accordingly took 
off and handed to the driver, to be so transferred. 
The next morning, he received the thanks of him 
towards whom he had acted the part of the good 
Samaritan, for having saved, as he believed, his life. 
By whatever name called, were those othurs ; hea- 
thens or Christians ? 

It happened to me, within the last year, to be 
travelling in company with an old lady, in her 
eightieth year, of whom I had charge. There 
sat before us a woman from the common ranks 



TEA YELLING. 73 

of life, with two young children, who had been 
travelling, she said, for three days and nights, 
and looked extremely weary and ill. My aged 
friend, who believed that, unless she could get 
some rest, she might have a fit of illness, said 
to her, " If you will go to sleep, I will look after 
your children." The kind offer was immediately 
accepted; she leaned back, and her senses were 
soon fast locked in slumber. Then my friend, be- 
fore whom she sat, asked me to watch the children, 
while she held a cushion she carried with her 
against the poor woman's head, and so we went on, 
until she awoke, very much refreshed. 

^Whenever anything offensive in the manners 
one meets with in travelling, proceeds from ill 
temper, it is rebuked, and put down most effect- 
ually, by something as opposite to itself as pos- 
sible. If it is the result of mere ignorance of 
conventional rule, it should be pardoned, and the 
ignorance, in the latter instance, kindly removed. 
A case in point, is one mentioned by Miss Sedg- 
wick, who was once applied to, on board a 
steamboat, by a young woman, to " give her 
the loan of her hairbrush and comb." She did 
so ; and, when they were brought back, she said, 
" I will give them to you ; they are not things to 
be borrowed, and you should not have asked for 
them, my good girl ; but now you are welcome to 
them." 
1 



74 TRAVELLING. 

Officials of every sort, who have to deal with 
travellers, very soon distinguish between the truly 
refined, and the vulgar, who fancy themselves gen- 
tlemen and ladies. I once asked a very respect- 
able driver, as I sat on the box beside him, what 
proportion of travellers were well-mannered. He 
replied that they were about half and half, and then 
went on to tell me of the extreme unreasonableness 
of a party whom he was driving a long day's jour- 
ney, on a previous day, remembered long after- 
wards as the " hot Tuesday," and who became 
obstreperous, because they found that they were 
not likely to arrive at their journey's end at the 
time promised by the proprietor of the stage, who 
could not foresee the intense heat of the weather. 
In vain the driver explained that he could drive 
faster, only at the risk of killing his horses. Again 
and again they remonstrated, and again he explain- 
ed, until at last he ceased to reply to them. They 
reported him, afterwards, for insolence. " What did 
he say ?" asked the master ; " Nothing, he would 
not speak at all." His master did not " find him 
guilty.' ' 

There is one single point of opposition which, 
I think, it is always right to maintain, in car- 
travelling, that of insisting upon fresh air, be- 
cause no one is bound to submit to a process of 
poisoning, even in furtherance of good fellowship. 
True, the air that has been breathed in and out of 



TRAVELLING. 75 

fifty or a hundred pairs of lungs, as the case may 
be, until a very large portion of its vital property, 
oxygen, is lost, and its place supplied by a delete- 
rious carbonic acid, is not usually considered inju- 
rious, but it is the pure, fresh air of heaven that 
people are afraid of. I have little doubt, that the 
seeds of many a disease are sown by the close air 
of cars, school-rooms, sleeping-rooms, and crowded 
drawing-rooms. 

Do not display fine dress in travelling. What 
can be more out of place, even if the cars were 
clean, instead of being filthy, as many of them are. 
'Tis pity it should not be more generally under- 
stood, how essential an element in good breeding of 
every sort, is fitness, and how much a mere sense 
of fitness has to do with constituting the real gentle- 
man and lady. I should have a great objection to an 
aristocratic class in our country, but a few families' 
of recognized "nobility," scattered here and there, 
might be useful, by their example of plainness and 
simplicity of dress in travelling, stout shoes and 
strong clothes, in walking for exercise, etc., arid of 
moderation in the fashions. Xot that this practical 
wisdom is confined to them, but their example, in 
these respects, would be of greater force than any 
other, even in a democratic country. 

My last advice on this topic is, that when you 
travel for pleasure you carry with you a spirit of 
enterprise, and be on the alert, and energetic to 



76 TRAVELLING. 

make the utmost of your opportunities. Indolent, 
comfort-loving travellers, forego scenes that may- 
enrich a lifetime, rather than lose a few hours' 
sleep, or miss a regular meal. On my first visit 
to Niagara, I was, of course, particularly eager 
to see the great wonder under every variety of 
aspect. On the first night of our arrival, w-e sat 
by it a long time, in order to have a view of it by 
moonlight ; but the moon, rising rather late, was so 
long in getting above the spray, that w r e determined 
to be satisfied, that time, without a sight of her fair 
face beaming over those magical waters, for the 
effect was, under those circumstances, very strik- 
ing, imparting to them a sort of wildness and mys- 
tery. 

The next evening we had a tremendous thunder- 
storm, and thick blackness, but that, too, was a 
grand accompaniment to this great chorus of 
hallelujahs, a sublime variety in the scene-shift- 
ing. We watched it from the upper piazza of 
a hotel, that then stood on high ground above the 
Horse-Shoe, on the Canada side. At one moment, 
there was darkness that might be felt ; at another, 
the Falls and the Rapids above them, were lighted 
up with dazzling brilliancy, and as suddenly extin- 
guished. It was a wonderful sight. 

By the third night, the moon came too late for 
our purpose, so I proposed that we should go to 
bed betimes, and get up at one o'clock. The 



TRAVELLING. 77 

party all declined, except one, who consented for 
the sake of obliging me. He had his reward, how- 
ever, as he fully acknowledged. It was a won- 
drous thing in the hush of midnight, to have an 
impression of stilness in the midst of that war of 
waters, to see the moonlight sleeping on the brow 
of the torrent, and bathing the whole scene with 
what seemed a fitting type of the spirit of God, 
brooding over Creation's mighty deep. There we 
waited until the dawn. Would that I could de- 
scribe it. I dare not make the attempt, but I shall 
never forget it ; and I am sure that my life has been 
always richer by what I saw, when others were 
locked in sleep. 

I remember being once at Naushon, and, after 
a day spent in the enjoyment of the beautiful 
scenery of that lovely island, and the hospitality 
of its kind owner, Governor Swain, we were in- 
vited at 9 P. M. to go out on the bay, in a boat 
One of our party said she had changed her mind, 
and broken her word so often, after declaring, 
"I will not try to see or to do anything more to- 
day," that now she would be steadfast. So she 
refused to accompany us. It was a summer's night 
of heavenly beauty — its queen holding a brilliant 
court. Our friend, who took us out, played skil- 
fully the bugle, and waked such echoes with it as 
gave the effect of a celestial band over our heads, 
whose music spread, until it seemed to be diffused 



78 TRAVELLING. 

through the whole circle of the heavens. I never 
listened to anything like it before or since, but it 
has remained with me always ; and, to this day, at 
an interval of thirty years, perhaps, I am glad and 
grateful that I heard it. 



CHAPTER YIIL 



TEACHING. 



Possibly there are those among you who will 
become teachers, and it may be well, therefore, to 
give you some of my ideas on the subject, the more 
especially as they may assist you in the selection 
of teachers for your children — should you have no 
other occasion to act upon them. A thorough 
knowledge of what is to be taught, though an in- 
dispensable, is not a sufficient cptalification, for this 
important profession. The power of imparting the 
knowledge does not necessarily accompany it, and 
is a distinct and especial gift. Supposing that the 
prospective teacher combines the two within him- 
self, he still needs, for full and proper success, a 
heart conscientiously devoted to his work, and a 
love both for it and for his pupils. Xo teaching 
will be thorough that is not conscientious, and con- 
scientious teaching is very hard work, requiring a 
stimulus from within. 

The first thing to be taught is, generally, how to 
study, though this, in many instances, is never 
learned, in all the years of school-life. Sitting over 



80 TEACHING. 

one's book, while gazing much of the time around 
the room, or into empty space, is called study. 
Committing a lesson, so that a few passages may 
be recited from it by rote, is called study. Mak- 
ing a very imperfect slipshod translation, partly 
by guessing, and partly by a certain facility of in- 
sight into hidden meaning, is called study. "I 
have spent so much time over that lesson," is con- 
sidered a sufficient apology for not knowing it, 
instead of a proof sufficient that no proper means 
have been used for mastering it. Time was given, 
but will was wanting. It has been said that a man 
being asked what was the first requisite in a wife, 
replied, " An amiable disposition, and the second, 
an amiable disposition, and the third, an amiable 
disposition." 

There is a word equally deserving a threefold 
repetition, as applied to teaching, which is, " tho- 
roughness." If this is insisted upon from the begin- 
ning of a child's education, he is made a working 
student almost as a matter of course ; but I am led 
to infer that this is not usually the case, because 
I have found, in a majority of instances, that my 
pupils of all ages have yet to learn this first prin- 
ciple. 

There have been exceptions, of course. Real 
study is hard work, and it is only by hard work 
that anything of importance or value is to be ob- 
tained in this world. Let the mind be made up to 



TEACHING. 81 

the work, and it ceases to be formidable. Often 
what was at first laborious and difficult, becomes 
easy. "To him that hath shall be given," applies 
to every human effort. The promise is really made 
to him who hath — what he has gained for him- 
self. It is with the mental as with the bodily 
powers ; they acquire both strength and facility by 
use ; and, therefore, whether the chief end of 
schools be to accumulate stores of knowledge, as is 
maintained by some, or, as others believe, to train 
the powers of the mind for future use, it is equally 
important that the discipline should be very tho- 
rough. 

It is painful to find how many young girls go 
through several years of school-life, with little or 
no gain of any sort, often with injury ; for sham 
lessons, like shams of all sorts impair the tone of 
mind and character, and constitute a most unfit 
preparation for a true earnest life. 

Not unfrequently, I think, the perceptions are 
dimmed, and the mind confused, even in the case 
of those who would be willing to leam under pro- 
per auspices, by their being hurried on, as mem- 
bers perhaps of large classes, through lessons which 
they did not understand. 

Some of you will remember a lassie of about 
twelve, who came to me from a mammoth school, 
which she had attended some years without learn- 
ing anything, whose brow contracted the moment 
4* 



82 TEACHING. 

she began to recite, and remained so knit during 
the whole time of recitation, in spite of all my 
efforts to the contrary — nor could I cure her 
altogether of this habit, during the two years that 
she remained with me. Her sister, too, older than 
herself, had a most painfully anxious expression 
under the same circumstances. I told their father, 
I could have done far more and better for them if 
they had not been at school at all up to the time 
that they came to me, so that I could have 
begun at the alphabet with them. Young people 
must be excused for wishing always to get through 
a book, and counting their advancement by the 
number of books they have gone through ; but a 
teacher is unfit for his vocation, who has not an 
entirely different mode of reckoning, and does not 
consider that the thorough study of one book, is 
better than a superficial skimming of any number 
whatever. Not merely thoroughness in the first 
instance, but repetition, often a good deal of repeti- 
tion is necessary to master it. 

I have sometimes found, after trying by every 
possible means, to quicken a new pupil to dili- 
gence, and make her acquire a lesson, that one 
secret of her failure, was her ignorance of her own 
language, which she actually did not know well 
enough to study any but the simplest elementary 
book, perhaps not even that. The extent of this 
ignorance is in some cases marvellous, and almost 



TEACHING. 83 

unaccountable, for unless one were brought up 
with the dumb or with idiots, it might be expect- 
ed that a good deal of language would be learned, 
nolens volcns. I have had one pupil of sixteen, 
whose vocabulary was limited to that required for 
ordinary material life. Her ignorance measured 
by her opportunities, was quite as striking as that 
of a little child in a ragged school, who, poor little 
creature, did not know what a flower meant, never 
having seen one. 

Be sure then that the lesson is comprehended. 
Let no word or phrase remain unexplained, that 
may possibly not be understood by even the least 
intelligent of the class, and then insist upon its 
being well learned. Let it never be excused or let 
go, until this is accomplished. You will perceive 
at once, how important it is that you should study 
carefully the capacity, character, and previous at- 
tainments of your pupils, that you may know how 
much you may reasonably and safely require of 
them, and be enabled to class them perfectly, so 
that the quick and the gifted may not be kept 
back by the slow and the dull, nor the latter pull- 
ed forward to a point quite beyond their proper 
attainment, or be discouraged altogether. 

One of my pupils, who had attended a large and 
celebrated school in one of our cities, assured me 
that she never studied a lesson while she was there. 
When I asked how this was possible, she replied, 



84 TEACHING. 

" The classes were so long that never more than 
one question came to her, and she could generally 
contrive to * manage' that, somehow or other." 

Your school, therefore, must not be very large if 
you mean to follow my advice, for then, instead of 
that intimate knowledge of your pupils, indispensa- 
ble to the proper performance of your duty towards 
them, you may be ignorant of their names, even, 
for this is true, I am told, of the heads of some of 
the great schools of our country, and I can well 
believe it. 

I have found it, as you know, very useful to 
furnish you all with a written " order of exercises," 
prescribing the time allotted for the study of each 
lesson, and not permitting any to be borrowed or 
stolen for one, which properly belongs to another. 

This prevents, or breaks up if it already exists, 
the habit of lolling lazily over your books, instead 
of working as if "now" were not, as it always is, 
or should be, the " accepted time." The time of 
recitation must also be fixed, of course. 

There cannot be a really working school, without 
an energetic, hard-working person at its head. 
School-boys and girls know when their guide is a 
fellow-worker — when he has the spirit he tries to 
breathe into them. Magnetism is a somewhat 
vague, unsettled term, but it stands for a very real 
thing when used to signify the subtle influence, 
whatever it is, that acts and re-acts between hu- 



TEACHING. 85 

man beings in different relations — invisibly, but as 
certainly, as the wind upon the weather-cock, or 
the pole-star upon the needle. Every teacher must 
be aware that his own state gives its tone to that 
of the school. If he, from any cause, is languid and 
listless, the energy of his pupils will droop to some 
extent at least ; whereas, if his spirit is vigorous 
and active, ifc will communicate a life-giving influ- 
ence. Woe, then, to the school which has not at 
its head an earnest man or woman. No other 
should assume the functions and duties of a teach- 
er. Every arrangement in connection with the 
school should be made to assist and enforce the 
impression of its being a place for real work. An 
example of strict punctuality must be set by the 
teachers, and pupils must be required to follow it. 
They must not, for any light reason, be permitted 
o lose half a day, or even an hour from it — the 
idea being constantly held up, that the time and 
the opportunity are too important to be lost. They 
must be encouraged to resist a headache, if not 
severe, or any slight bodily ailment, of which they 
woujd fain make an excuse for a holiday. 

If you have pupils, out of your own family, and 
one stays away a day, go immediately to ask the 
reason, that parents as well as child may see what 
importance you attach to regular attendance. 
Listen to no plea for having lessons excused on 
slight and insufficient grounds ; nor because a study 



S6 TEACHING. 

happens to bo completed within only one or two 
days of the end of the week, allow a class to post- 
pone beginning a new one, until the following 
week. In these " Character-factories," all the 
operations should be as regularly, habitually, un- 
interruptedly, and unavoidably carried on as in those 
for the weaving of cloth ; and the same busy hum 
of industry should pervade them, though not quite 
so audibly. 

When a new scholar comes to you, ten to one, 
whatever her age, you will find her deficient in 
spelling, and incapable of writing a half page of 
a letter grammatically, or of bounding even the 
New England States ; for " the rudiments of educa- 
tion" are a good deal out of fashion. With such, 
of course, you must begin at the beginning. I 
shall not attempt, within these limits, to lay out 
any plan of study, but I would earnestly recom- 
mend, that the studies pursued at any one time, 
should be few in number, and that undue import- 
ance should not attach to text-books on various 
subjects, the contents of which, however well mas- 
tered at the time, will either be forgotten altogether, 
or remain an undigested mass in the memory and 
which are more valuable as books of reference 
than for any other purpose. 

The studies should have reference, first of all, to 
the faculties they are to develop ; the reasoning 
powers, those of analysis, language, and ideality 



TEACHING. 87 

should all have direct cultivation. The percep- 
tive powers have also a claim to attention which 
is not usually properly acknowledged. I have 
often thought that if I were capable of teaching 
them, I should like, in the summer season, to have 
nothing taught but the natural sciences. 

A great deal of what is learned at school is 
necessarily forgotten, as a matter of course ; and 
that is best remembered of which there is some- 
thing within or without ourselves always to remind 
us. The study of the human mind, and the human 
body comes within this category, of course, and 
that of the latter, in connection with health, I 
consider indispensable. So also does the study of 
languages, between which there is such affiliation, 
that one, alone, is sufficient to keep many others, 
to a certain degree, in the mind; and although men 
are said to forget a great deal of their Latin and 
Greek, these have constituted the foundation of a 
superstructure, which is always rising higher and 
higher. 

Skeleton histories have their value for the same 
reason. They may be clothed upon at a later 
period, for no intelligent, cultivated person will be 
content to live in ignorance of "the ages" of which 
he is the "heir," anymore than of the present 
time. But do not assign your pupils too much to 
do ; do not let them attempt too much. If you 
succeed in training properly their powers of mind, 



8S TEACHING. 

in forming in them habits of patient careful study, 
of a concentration of their powers, bearing upon 
a single point, as the sun's rays are collected in a 
focus, and in inspiring them with a love of know- 
ledge for its own sake, you have done inexpressibly 
more for them, than if yon had made them passive 
repositories of the knowledge to be got out of all 
the school-books that ever were printed. 

If you have your pupils in your family, I advise 
you to read to them a good deal, taking care to 
secure attention by an animated manner, by occa- 
sional questions or remarks, by looking out geo- 
graphical, historical, biographical, or mythological 
references that may occur ; and to exercise their 
thinking powers by conversation growing out of 
the topics treated of, whatever they may be. In 
the country, there are always six school-hours ; 
and, in my opinion, it is an admirable plan to 
devote one of these to loud reading, while the 
listeners carry on various branches of sewing, which, 
though a beautiful feminine accomplishment, is so 
fast falling into disuse that it is in danger of be- 
coming one of the lost arts. I have been jealous 
of the time usually devoted to mere surface geo- 
graphy, if I may so speak, by remembering how 
much I was made to give to it, in my early years, 
and hoW unprofitably. " Latitudes and longitudes, 
lengths and breadths," etc., I was made to repeat 
with as much facility as A B C. 



TEACHING. S9 

My memory, the only faculty called into exercise, 
was stored with names of counties, towns, and 
riyers, etc., which it was of no use for me to know, 
and which I must necessarily forget, and which I 
might neyer haye recalled by hearing them spoken 
of in conyersation, or seeing them mentioned in 
books. In a child's early years, a thorough ac- 
quaintance can be made with the great general 
divisions and features of the globe, such as it is 
essential to know, and with all its artificial divis- 
ions. And this knowledge should be kept up by 
a weekly or semi-weekly lesson on the maps, and 
by referring to them whenever in reading any 
point is mentioned, the place of which is not re- 
membered. Grammar, I believe, is seldom any 
thing but a puzzle to the young. It is, at first, 
taught better by example than by practice, and it 
is well to require some written exercise every day, 
even of the youngest pupil. 



CHAPTER IX. 

SCHOOL GOVERNMENT. 

It is one thing to educate tlie mind, a far higher 
and more important office to educate the heart and 
the conscience. How shall this be done ? How 
shall the teacher establish an influence over his 
pupils which shall make them love duty for its 
own sake, and refer all their conduct to its standard? 
— which shall quicken in them what is good, and re- 
press what is evil ? — which shall put them on their 
guard against the temptations that easily beset 
them ? — which shall win the obstinate to docility, 
the selfish to proper consideration of others, the 
deceitful to truth, the passionate to gentleness, the 
indifferent to animation, and the indolent to indus- 
try ? First of all, by loving them, by manifesting 
a real sympathy with them, and showing an earn- 
est desire for their happiness and improvement. 
Here, again, the friend must be uppermost, and 
above the teacher. If this were always so, in 
schools and colleges, the result would seem almost 
magical; but now, the young are apt to regard 
those under whose subjection they are placed, as, 
in some sort, spies and enemies, whom they are to 
foil and defeat as best they may. The idea is en- 



SCHOOL GOVERNMENT. 91 

couraged and confirmed often by the great distance 
at which they are kept from their teachers, by for- 
mality of manner, and an assumption, on their part, 
of superiority, which seems to say, " Stand by, for 
I am greater than thou." Secure the affection 
and respect of those who are under you, and they 
will render you, voluntarily, a deference that is 
worth as much more than any that is exacted, as 
diamonds are worth more than paste. 

The next requisite to success in the department 
I am speaking of, is strict justice in your dealings 
with them. The young have a quick and keen 
perception of any injustice. If you find that, in 
haste or thoughtlessness, you have administered 
publicly an undeserved rebuke, ask pardon for it, 
and take it back as publicly. In so doing, you 
will remove a thorn you have lodged in some 
breast, which will rankle if it remains ; and you 
will controvert, by your example, the common no- 
tion, false and vulgar, that it is degrading to con- 
fess a fault — as if there could be degradation in 
any right conduct. If a question arises about any 
matter, however slight, the meaning of a word, 
the time when a thing was done, the length of a 
lesson appointed, and after a positive affirmation 
you find yourself mistaken, do not hesitate to ac- 
knowledge your mistake. This is a small thing, 
but may have great uses. Deal with an impartial 
hand, as between one pupil and another. Take an 



92 SCHOOL GOVERNMENT. 

equal interest in all, bestow equal pains upon all, 
show an equal care for the comfort and happiness 
of all. Reprove openly only when the offence has 
been open. In all other cases let your reproofs be 
in secret. Sometimes you can make them more 
effectual by administering them through the me- 
dium of pen and paper, because, then, there is no 
chance for a rash vindication which it is hard to 
retract — no opportunity for an outbreak of temper, 
which shuts up the heart to any good influence ; 
and time is given for mature reflection. Be very 
careful about making promises ; but having made 
them, keep them without fail, whatever reason you 
may have to regret them. A young friend of mine, 
the whole of whose short life, including those 
years of it spent in college, was most exemplary, 
was, nevertheless, sent away from college, with a 
large number of his class, because they remonstra- 
ted against the breach of a promise made to them 
by their tutor or professor, in regard to an abridg- 
ment of extra lessons. In my opinion, the tutor or 
professor should have been sent away instead, or 
the whole college laid under an interdict for sanc- 
tioning the proceeding. 

Thirdly, cultivate a spirit of patience and for- 
bearance towards infirmity of every sort. Regard 
it as sickness of the mind, and be compassionate 
towards it. Be habitually gentle, courteous, and 
ladylike in your manners. This, in itself, has a 



SCHOOL GOVERNMENT. 93 

harmonizing effect ; and if, at rare intervals, exi- 
gencies arise which call forth from you an unwont- 
ed exhibition of anger or indignation, it has all the 
more effect, because so seldom seen in you. Main- 
tain a steady calmness, a self-poised bearing, under 
all difficulties — wait for explanations when you are 
not sure that you understand the whole of any 
matter. 

Do not allow yourself to be thrown off your 
guard by ill temper, or even impertinence ; but 
preserve always that self-possession without which 
you cannot act wisely or discreetly under difficult 
and trying circumstances. Be willing to reason 
with the unreasonable, to give line upon line, and 
precept upon precept, to the dull, the indifferent, 
and the thoughtless, and to forgive the wayward, 
seventy times seven. In short, exhibit in yourself, 
all the virtues which you wish to cultivate in 
them. Let them never detect you in failing to 
practice what you preach. Let them see in you 
the hard-working woman you wish to make each 
one of them, never excusing or sparing yourself 
from doing all that properly belongs to you to do, 
never making any of your arrangements with more 
reference to your own ease, than to their benefit 
and improvement. 

Make no appeal to the spirit of emulation by 
prizes, rewards, or distinctions of any sort. It is 
a low principle, the active exercise of which 



94 SCHOOL GOVERNMENT. 

represses that of the better and higher part of 
one's nature, and may awaken envy, jealousy, and 
even hatred towards successful rivals. It is farther 
true, that the objects of its pursuit come to be 
considered as the final causes, the ends of school- 
education ; a delusion akin to that which would be 
created by leading a young person to believe that 
the highest object in marriage, is to have wedding 
garments, and receive the transitory homage usual- 
ly paid to a bride. A young friend of mine, who 
attended a very large and celebrated school where, 
at the end of each term, public examinations were 
held and prizes distributed, told me that on the as- 
sembling of the school, in the beginning of a term, 
it was soon ascertained who were likely to be suc- 
cessful competitors for the prizes. These became 
very earnest students, and made very considerable 
acquisitions ; while, as a general rule, all the rest did 
very little, sparing themselves as much as possible. 
Never having had a large school, I cannot tell 
whether it is possible to dispense with this stimu- 
lus of the love of approbation in its management. 
But I can affirm, from experience, that it is entirely 
unnecessary to make use of it in a small one, 
where a few, who are faithful to duty, will give 
tone to the whole school ; so that industry and 
fidelity will become the rule rather than the ex- 
ception. 

Let there be no escape from the full discharge 



SCHOOL GOVERNMENT. 95 

of school duty. For many years, I heard, out of 
school, every lesson imperfectly recited at the 
proper time. At length I adopted the custom of 
hiring a teacher for Saturday afternoon, when de- 
linquents were called upon to pay up the arrears 
of the week. It is needless to remind you that 
the " Saturday book," in which every imperfect 
lesson is recorded, that it may be learned over on 
Saturday afternoon, is a " book of record " greatly 
dreaded. There are always some, whose names 
never appear on it, some whose names are rarely 
seen there ; and always, I am sorry to say, some 
whose names are, for a time at least, sure to be found 
there. It has been the means, however, of reclaim- 
ing completely not a few, who seemed at first, incor- 
rigibly lazy and careless ; and of bringing a large 
number to greatly improved habits of study. I 
regard it as one of my best devices. 

Lastly, guard your pupils, with the strictest care, 
against all deceitful practices. The tendency to 
these is universal, simply because the human being 
hates work, loves ease, and is easily amused with in- 
ventions. They prevail more or less, in every school 
not so guarded, and in many, to a lamentable extent. 
After having been a teacher more than thirty years, 
I am still often surprised to find what a degree of 
watchfulness is necessary on this account, and with 
what ingenuity this watchfulness may be baffled. 
Truth is one of the pearls often cast before swine. 



96 SCHOOL GOVERNMENT. 

In the first place discourage and denounce, per- 
emptorily, prompting, and make it a punishable 
offence. On the part of the prompter, it often 
proceeds from mere thoughtless good-nature. 
She must, therefore, be made to see, that it is 
" temptation and a snare " to those who are led 
to avail themselves of it. If great care is not 
taken, the indolent will rely upon this, rather 
than upon any other means of getting on with a 
recitation. They must be made to see that they 
act a lie, by giving out another's knowledge as 
their own, and the others that they make them- 
selves parties to it, as aiders and abettors. 

Take care to let it be quite accidental, which 
one of a class shall begin a recitation. One girl 
who had been accustomed, before she came to me, 
to being in very long classes, said of her bible- 
lessons, that she had been always in the habit of 
counting to see which verse would come to her, 
and of learning only that. Another mode of avoid- 
ing one's proper work, is by getting undue help 
from others. This I always expressly forbid, and 
yet the help, to a certain extent, will be sought 
and received. Here again, honesty is wanting on 
one side, and good-nature is at fault on the other. 
Direct all to come to you, and to no one else, for 
the assistance they need ; and let them have from 
you as much as you think good for them. It is 
a fatal habit in a scholar, so far as scholarship is 



SCHOOL GOVERNMENT. 97 

concerned, to rely upon the assistance of others, 
rather than upon her own efforts. It is a with- 
ering, wasting process, that takes from the mind 
all its stamina, just as disuse will make an arm or 
a leg powerless. Let the iniquity of so depending 
on another, be seen as another form of the acted lie. 

I once had a pupil of good parts, who came 
to me at the age of sixteen, in great ignorance 
of much that a girl should know long before that 
period. After becoming fully acquainted with 
her character, as manifested both in and out of 
school, I said to her : "I know exactly what 
has been your mode of proceeding in all the schools 
you have attended hitherto. You have been helped 
and prompted through your lessons, without really 
learning much of anything. Your Latin and your 
French have been translated for you; you have 
been shown how to do your sums, and often had 
them done for you, while prompting has sup- 
plied all other deficiencies." Although not very 
true in speech any more than in conduct, she did 
not deny this ; and the being made really to work 
was something so new to her, that at first it oc- 
casioned violent outbreaks of temper. 

I know, by experience, how difficult it is for 
even a conscientious, pains-taking teacher to pre- 
vent this, and other habitual knaveries of the 
school-room ; but every teacher should set her face 
as a flint, against them. There are those who be- 
5 



98 SCHOOL GOVERNMENT. 

lieve that if they appeal habitually to a sense of 
honor in their pupils, and adopt no other means 
of securing right conduct, this will prove suffi- 
cient. If such a sense of honor exist even as a 
latent germ, it will be called forth and developed 
into very efficient action, by such confidence; but 
alas! it is usually found only with the minority. 
I know a teacher of high character, who in her 
inexperience adopted this theory, and brought 
herself into great trouble by it. Even after she 
found herself compelled, in the second year of her 
school, to adopt a much stricter discipline, the 
pupils who remained over, still took advantage of 
her weak side in this way. When, sometimes, she 
asked them directly, whether they had done so 
and so, transgressing some rule, or overlooking 
some prohibition, they put her at fault, and saved 
their consciences, as they thought, by exclaiming ; 

"Why, Mrs. !" implying in this way the 

greatest astonishment, that she could suspect them 
even, of such disobedience. They boasted of this 
" dodge," in letters which came to my knowledge 
accidentally. 

These girls had been too little instructed as to 
the nature and obligations of truth — to be aware 
that they had incurred the guilt of lying, as much 
as if they had denied, explicitly the acts in ques- 
tion. With all my long experience as a teacher, 
my conviction that the cultivation of truth, in every 



SCHOOL GOVERNMENT. 99 

form, is of the highest importance to my pupils, 
and the careful and varied modes which I adopt 
in furtherance of this end, I do not yet feel assured 
that I can guard effectually against alt the subter- 
fuges of the deceitful. Suffer no false excuses to go 
without rebuke — nor let the common form of vin- 
dication after a failure, " I did it as well as I 
could," or, " I learned it as well as I could," pass 
without holding it up in its true character, as a 
positive falsehood. It is not strange that truth is 
so rare a virtue, since it requires to be so watch- 
fully guarded, and receives so little care. It often 
seems quite a new idea, when first I endeavor to 
inculcate it, that there are acted as well as spoken 
lies ; that one may be guilty of a lie by a wink, or 
a nod, even ; and that there is more meanness in the 
acted than in the spoken lie, because less liability 
to detection. There seems to be a fascination to 
some young people in doing forbidden things, just 
because they are forbidden — for the pleasure of suc- 
cessfully escaping detection. It is well, therefore, 
to declare occasionally, " Do not imagine that I 
suppose I can know all the wrong things you do; 
I am fully aware that this is quite impossible." 
This has the effect, that the stopping short, or 
turning aside of the pursuer, has on the energies 
of the pursued. 

Sometimes I have been in the habit of having a 
printed Bible motto for the week, put upon the 



100 SCHOOL GOVERNMENT. 

wall of the school-room. After a while, this prac- 
tice fell into disuse; and I revived it again, in con- 
sequence of being told by an old pupil of mine, that 
she thought that custom, in my school, had had 
more to do with the formation of her religious 
character, than anything else. Sermons, she said, 
were apt to be vague ; but by this means, her at- 
tention was called to the cultivation of particular 
virtues and graces. I never shall forget how I was 
affected by a lovely niece of mine saying to me, 
"Aunt Lizzie, do give us a hard motto next week, 
for the last was not hard at all." It was the golden 
rule, and it was true, it was not hard for her ; but 
she was perfectly unconscious that she was saying 
anything remarkable. It is well to remind the 
young, frequently, of their accountability to God, 
it is well to enforce upon them the belief that the 
faithful performance of the duties of the week, is 
a more acceptable offering to Him, than the imper- 
fect worship of the Sabbath, so desirable on our 
own account. It is well that the school should be 
opened by reading of the Bible, and by prayer — 
not as a form, but in furtherance of the highest end 
of education. It is lamentable that so little is often 
known of the Bible, even by the children of Chris- 
tian parents, and that it is read and studied, often, 
with so little interest. Say to your pupils occa- 
sionally, something of this sort : " I do not read to 
you this book every day, as a mere observance, but 



SCHOOL GOVERNMENT. 101 

because it is one from whose treasures you should 
begin early to draw, and which the study of a life- 
time will not exhaust. The old Testament is 
worthy the attention of all scholars, as an ancient 
book, containing the history of an ancient and very 
remarkable people — the most beautiful poetry ever 
written, and the sublime titterings of inspired men, 
whose souls were touched with a coal from the 
altar of the Lord." 

The new Testament is the guide, the handbook 
of travellers on life's journey heavenwards, who, 
without it, will generally mistake their way. It 
contains the gospels, the " good news," of peace 
on earth to be wrought out, amid perpetually re- 
curring strife, by the religion of our blessed Saviour, 
and good-will from Heaven to man, in spite of his 
sinfulness, waywardness, and disobedience. It also 
contains, most important of all, a record of the 
life of Jesus, who came upon the earth to save us 
from our sins, to reveal God as a Father, and to 
exhibit in himself, a model for our imitation, which 
we should study most carefully, and keep ever 
before us. It has, besides the writings of some of 
his immediate followers. 

You may think that all this is too obvious, too 
well known to need suggestion ; but you must 
remember that though habit is neje?sny in every 
important pursuit and duty, to induce facility 
and regular observance ; yet that very facility 



102 SCHOOL GOVERNMENT. 

may sometimes be detrimental to true earnestness, 
and thorough conscientiousness of action and pur- 
pose. When Silvio Pellico was first imprisoned, he 
was allowed to have for his use, a copy of Dante ; 
and tried to divert his thoughts from his intoler- 
able condition, by committing it to memory. Very 
soon, however, the process became so easy that 
he could learn long passages by heart, without any 
interruption to the sad train of his melancholy 
thoughts. I think that one reason why the Bible 
is so much less to its readers than it ought to be ; 
why it remains, to a considerable degree, a sealed 
book though so often opened is, that having it 
placed in our hands when we are children, incapa- 
ble of comprehending it, we acquire the habit of 
reading it mechanically. 

Take particular pains, therefore, to have the 
reading of it with your pupils, a living process. 
Keep them attentive and awake, by comments 
and by questions ; and explain, carefully, everything 
that, possibly or probably, they may not fully un- 
derstand. In regard to the prayer, make them 
comprehend, if you can, their relation to God, by 
that which they hold to their earthly father, so 
that they may see by the unfitness of making hol- 
low professions, and insincere acknowledgments, 
or unmeaning requests to the latter, the dread- 
ful mockery of a heartless form of petition, and 
profession to the great Father of all. 



CHAPTER X. 



MARRIAGE. 



Many are disposed to laugh at the fact that 
young ladies think and talk so much upon the topic 
of marriage, and to contemn those who present the 
subject to them. Whether this ridicule and this 
condemnation be just, depends altogether upon 
the spirit in which these discussions are earned on 
by the juniors, and the motive which leads to them, 
on the part of their elders. 

Marriage and maternity being the God-appointed 
destiny of women, their education would certainly 
be very imperfect, if they were not trained with di- 
rect reference to it ; and this could not be, unless 
when the proper time arrived, their attention were 
distinctly turned to it, in a way to enforce the prepa- 
ration it requires. Be assured that when this is clone, 
wisely and rationally, the best possible safeguard is 
provided against the low and frivolous views of this 
institution, which the thoughtless and the ignorant 
are apt to take. The absurdity of the opposite 
course is not greater than would be that of care- 
fully excluding a student at law from all mention 



104 MARRIAGE. 

and knowledge of courts ; or of taking pains that a 
student of divinity should ignore altogether the 
existence of the pulpit. 

I have spoken of the low views of marriage, held 
by the ignorant. Is this divinely-appointed insti- 
tution properly appreciated and understood — for 
all that it is worth, for all the high purposes God 
intended it should answer, by any large number of 
the opposite class ? 

God gave Eve to Adam, as a "helpmeet." This 
is what the husband should be to the wife, and the 
wife to the husband. How significant the original 
Hebrew word may be, I do not know, but it can 
hardly be more so than its Saxon substitute. 
A helpmeet — this comprises all. 

And in what do all human beings require help ? 
True sympathy is one great need of the human soul. 
It is the experience of that which makes God so 
dear to the true worshipper, and Jesus Christ a 
beloved brother. But we turn for it also perpetu- 
ally to our earthly friends ; and we want one, whose 
interests are so intimately connected with ours, so 
one and the same, and whose life so " bound up in 
the same bundle with ours," that the two hearts 
beat with a common pulsation — one to whom we 
can dare lay open the inmost recesses of our hearts, 
and communicate all our secrets ; to whom we may 
express our hopes and our fears ; confide our regrets 
and our anxieties, and utter our joys and our sor- 



MARRIAGE. 105 

rows ; thus increasing our store of good, and laying 
away from us, as it were, our burdens. We need 
counsel. We must suppose that, in constituting man 
and woman so differently, and ordaining marriage, 
a relation so intimate as to make of theni one soul, 
God designed that each, in this union, should be a 
more perfect being than in partition, that the two 
natures should supply each other with what is best 
in each, and so become a new and more perfect whole. 
Therefore, the chance ought to be that, if the par- 
ties confer together in all emergencies and critical 
periods, as well as in the thousand little matters 
of ordinary consideration, perpetually occurring; 
life will be far more rightly and wisely ordered, than 
when its course depends upon the will of either, un- 
assisted by the other. This conclusion presupposes, 
of course, that both are fitted to be "helpmeets." 
That a wife needs the counsel of her husband, will 
be readily admitted. That he requires hers at all, 
may, by many, be regarded as a strange and doubt- 
ful proposition. God has made us, so that we 
cannot be altogether self-dependent ; and the need 
of some one to lean upon, is a most important ele- 
ment of the religious nature, as well as a great 
strengthener of human ties. The strong man 
"bowed," often finds in feeble woman a firm sup- 
port — the tremulous man, a defence — the timid man, 
courage and reassurance — the despairing man, hope 
— the helpless man, strength — the suffering man, 



106 MARRIAGE. 

balm — the sorrowing man, comfort — the perplexed 
and troubled man, that which clears up his doubts 
and gives him tranquillity. I have sometimes be- 
held, with great admiration, a quiet, unpretending 
woman, laying no claim to superiority of any sort, 
not expressing herself much in conversation, but 
showing character in everything — who was to her 
family as the centre to the wheel — itself noiseless, 
but all that made a noise, revolving round it. 

I once had the gratification of hearing Father 
Taylor pass an eulogium on woman, which I like 
to repeat. He was reading in the pulpit, from a 
chapter in one of Paul's Epistles, where she is 
spoken of as the " weaker vessel." He stopped, 
put back his spectacles, and said, " I don't know 
about that ; the word is not translated right— -finer* 
finer i not weaker." He then went on thus : " I 
don't want a woman to go out of her proper sphere. 
I don't want her to go to the polls, or to meddle 
with politics ; but, take a woman, a true woman, 
put her in her own sphere, and let her perform the 
duties of that sphere well, and I would like to 
know where you'll find a more tremendous machine 
than that !" 

We all need pallcncc with our infirmities, and help 
to overcome them. A mother is the only friend 
who, like God, is ever more ready to feel compas- 
sion than anger, when we do wrong. True hus- 
bands and wives should resemble her as much as 



MARRIAGE. 107 

possible, in this respect ; and, having a spirit of 
mutual forbearance and forgiveness, they will be 
sure that they may do much to amend each other's 
faults, simply by its manifestation ; for it makes a 
direct and effectual appeal to a generous mind, the 
natural response to which, is an earnest endeavor 
to correct that which gives pain and annoyance to 
a friend so worthy of all gratitude, love, and devo- 
tion. "We need companionship that is not dependent 
upon accident ; that is as certain to us as the sun 
by day, and the moon and stars by night. Every 
one knows how inferior in pleasure and benefit is 
solitary travelling, to that made in chosen company; 
and the same is still more true ; of travelling on the 
journey of life. God has made the human soul, as 
he has made everything else endowed with any 
principle of vitality, both diffusive and receptive; 
and, to be in its best estate, it must impart a por- 
tion of what it receives. Thus action and re- 
action, between two souls closely united, becomes 
the source of their best and truest life. It is not 
confined, of course, to those bound together by the 
marriage tie ; but it is more complete and perfect 
in their case — if they are what they should be to 
one another. 

Thus, you perceive that while one great and im- 
portant result of marriage is the perpetuation of 
the human race ; its highest object is the growth 
and development of character, or, in other words, 



10S MARRIAGE. 

progress in the divine life; and, by-and-bye, it will 
be made evident to you, that the duties and respon- 
sibilities connected with the rearing of children, 
tend to the same end. 

The choosing, then, of a wife, or a husband, is a 
momentous act, and yet how lightly and thought- 
lessly is the election often made ; and, often, how 
impiously. I use the latter term advisedly, for 
marriage is a sacred institution, and the ark of its 
covenant should not be desecrated by unholy uses. 

In every other human contract, the attention is 
carefully turned upon all the ends to be gained by 
it, and the best means of securing those ends. If 
it be but for the purchase of lands or houses, or 
stock for a farm, it is not entered upon and con- 
cluded without a most careful examination of the 
property to be bought, with reference to ascertain- 
ing its true value, and its fitness for the purposes it 
is to answer. But in this infinitely most import- 
ant of all, in, perhaps, a majority of cases, no 
such care is taken. The account that Doctor 
Johnson gives of the way in which many marriages 
occur, does not convey an exaggerated idea of the 
heedlessness with which the destiny of young men 
and women is often sealed; and this accounts for a 
part of the misery which is found in married life. 
He says, " A youth and maiden meeting, by chance, 
or brought together by artifice, exchange glances, 
reciprocate civilities, go home and dream of one 



MAEHIAGE. 109 

another. Having little to diversify thought, they 
find themselves uneasy when they are apart, and 
therefore conclude that they shall be happy toge- 
ther. They marry, and discover what nothing but 
voluntary blindness had before concealed. They 
wear out life with altercations, and charge nature 
with cruelty." 

Many, deliberately and intentionally, base their 
choice upon the lowest motives. Men marry 
for beauty or wealth, or both ; and women for 
wealth ; and so-called position. These offend no 
human law ; but, in the eye of Heaven, there can, 
in such cases, he no true marriage. No purely 
material bond can truly unite beings who have 
souls as well as bodies. The folly of marry- 
ing for beauty might be best illustrated by a man 
who should vest his all in a perishing flower ; mar- 
rying for money, by him who makes an image of 
precious metal, which, though it has eyes, sees not ; 
and ears, hears not ; and then bows down before it, 
and fancies he can receive from it that for which 
humanity cries out to the Infinite. Women who 
marry for position, may " gain the whole fashionable 
world," but they will surely lose their own souls, 
which, must be fed with something else than glare 
and glitter. And what is this coveted " position," 
in the artificial world of shams ? To have it, is to 
be at the head of an expensive establishment, to 
have an immense visiting circle, to give large en- 



UO MARRIAGE. 

tertainments, which shall be " honored" with the 
presence of the " haut ton." In our country, who- 
ever has money enough, whether refined or vulgar, 
learned or unlearned, can attain to all this; there- 
fore, it is hardly a distinction to be coveted, even 
if it were worth more in itself. 

When this " position 1 ' is unquestioned, and com- 
mands all that can possibly be yielded to it, it gives 
very little satisfaction — because it answers to the 
wants of a very small part, and that the lowest, 
of our nature. When it is a little doubtful, or not 
fully acknowledged, its rights are granted upon such 
debasing terms, as must either bring with them a 
sense of deep humiliation, or rouse all manner of 
evil passions. This is man's world. In God's 
world the badges of distinction are very different, 
and worth is measured by other scales. The same 
niece who found it so easy to obey the golden rule, 
said something on another occasion that delighted 
and impressed me much. She announced the en- 
gagement of a young lady, her friend. After some 
questions in reply, about the young man whom she 
w T as to marry, it was asked, " But is he worth any- 
thing, Louise ?" " Oh yes, I believe he is a very 
good young man, indeed." 

" But, I mean has he any money ?" 

" Oh, Auntie !" was the reply, in a tone be- 
tokening great wonder and reproach that such a 
question could be asked. 



MARRIAGE. Ill 

The only position worth seeking, is that created 
by high attainments in character, in knowledge, in 
goodness. These constitute man's true nobility ; 
that which husbands and wives should be able to 
help each other to attain. They must each bring 
to the other something for the common stock, and 
both do their best to increase it. It has been more 
pithily than daintily said, that one great impedi- 
ment to the progress of the world consists in unfit 
marriages, and that people marry together who are 
no more fit for each other than " hell for a powder- 
house." Alas ! that the house should ever be a 
" powder-house" instead of the green bower of 
content, which it may and should be made. 

There are very few cases, probably, even when 
marriage is entered into, in the right spirit, from 
right motives, when it is not to a certain degree 
an experiment of doubtful issue, so far as happiness 
is concerned. The relation between lovers is very 
different from that which unites husbands and 
wives, and to a certain degree, is a poor preparation 
for it. The one bears the same relation to the 
other, as the easy, graceful prelude to the long, 
complicated, difficult composition that follows it ; 
as the holiday to a working day, as a quiet sail on 
some lovely stream, at dawn or sunset, when the 
heavens, as well as the inward world, are " couleur 
de rose" to a long and exposed voyage over a 
stormy sea. But it is only the intricate composi- 



112 MARRIAGE. 

tion, the working day, the difficult voyage, that 
worthily tax and develope the faculties they are 
respectively to exercise. Two young hearts are 
put in perfect tune by Love's skilful hand, and 
nothing probably occurs to disturb their harmony. 
Afterwards, in Life's jarring conflict, discords are 
almost inevitably caused, and unless the tuning 
is repeated, these musical hearts may become " like 
sweet bells jangled." It is said that the reason why 
lovers are so happy, is because love, then, is per- 
fectly unselfish. It has all that it asks for, and 
gives without effort all that is demanded of it. But 
this cannot always be so. When the relation be- 
comes of a more intimate nature, collisions of feel- 
ing, of tastes, and inclinations must perpetually 
occur ; for there are no two human beings that 
agree perfectly in all these ; and it seems moreover 
to be one of God's arrangements that people at- 
tract each other most, who are most unlike ; and 
therefore this diversity is particularly striking, often, 
in the married. 

Then comes the necessity for mutual sacrifices. 
These are probably harder, at first, for the wife, 
because her lover was her worshipper, and " to 
receive " only, is the part of the idol. From this 
dream the sooner she wakes the better. If the 
altar remain, she must herself supply the frank- 
incense and the myrrh. 

If both parties have generous minds, each will 



MARRIAGE. 113 

feel pleasure in sacrificing to the other. They 
will find instinctively the proper meeting line of 
mutual accommodation, and be all the happier for 
paying regard to it. 

If one party be selfish and the other generous, 
one will claim everything and the other be apt to 
yield everything ; which last, however, it is never 
entirely wise or right to do, because then the self- 
ishness of the one is confirmed and increased, and 
the just rights of the other are withheld. Justice 
is a noble attribute, and in its exercise we should 
embrace ourselves as well as others. If both par- 
ties are selfish, they must draw at opposite ends 
of the rope for the waters of life. 

I think it has been affirmed more than once, 
that the first year of marriage is the most import- 
ant of all, and decides the character of all that fol- 
low. I dare say this is very nearly true, and often 
perilous consequences result from causes in them- 
selves trivial. A scratch in a stick of timber may 
lead to its splitting asunder, and a word rashly 
spoken, and unretracted, may have in it the voice 
of doom. 

As soon as you find out what your husband's 
faults of temper are, take care not to give them, 
exercise, not to touch him in a tender point. If 
he gives you an undeserved reproof, take it patient- 
ly ; " answer not again," but wait until the mood 
has passed by before you tell him how much he 



114 MARRIAGE. 

has pained you ; and be sure this forbearance will 
produce more of the sorrow " that leads to repent- 
ance," than anything else could do. Whatever his 
faults may be, do not attempt, habitually, any other 
means of cure than this, and a silent example of 
the opposite virtues. There is nothing more weari- 
some and unprofitable than continual reproof. 

A charming young friend of mine, who married 
a man of very high temper, and very noble char- 
acter, to whom she was deeply attached, said to 
me that, from the first, she determined to lay by all 
pride; and that since the first year of her marriage, 
during which there were occasional outbursts on 
his part, he had not spoken even one impatient 
word to her. The " wisdom" so much extolled by 
the wise man — "I, Wisdom, that dwell with Pru- 
dence," was her counsellor, when she adopted 
this resolution. Pride is cherished by many as a 
noble attribute, and is often hugged to the heart 
with as bitter and fatal results as if it were a 
poisonous adder. It is noble only when it belongs 
to, and illustrates nobleness. True pride of char- 
acter is that which comes in aid of a still higher 
principle to prevent a man from doing anything 
mean or debasing. Pride of family is noble, just so 
far as it stimulates him to whom it rightly belongs 
to prove himself the worthy scion of an honorable 
stock ; but it becomes vulgar when it leads to self- 
exaltation that has no other basis. As well might 



MARRIAGE. 115 

a little, gnarled, stunted oak, be proud of its 
descent from some giant of the forest — the com- 
parison with which, only adds to its insignifi- 
cance. 

Pride of independence deserves all praise, when it 
leads its possessor to decline receiving from others 
means of living, which by efforts, however diffi- 
cult and laborious, he can procure for himself; 
and that pride is not to be condemned which pre- 
vents a man who has received injurious treatment 
of any sort, from another, to accept favors in lieu of 
due atonement, and be coaxed into good humor 
without proper propitiation. 

But, on the other hand, the pride that will not, on 
any terms, forgive an injury or overlook a slight; that, 
being aggrieved, wraps itself up in moody sullen- 
ness, neither asking nor giving explanation, and that 
will not be appeased when explanation is given 
and pardon asked ; and, above all, the pride that 
will not " stoop " to acknowledge a wrong and ex- 
press regret after an injury offered, this the Chris- 
tian man holds in common with the savage. The 
latter can be pardoned, because his animal nature 
remains always predominant, from a want of cul- 
ture of his higher faculties ; but what excuse is 
there for the former ? 

Pride indulged on the part of a husband or wife 
is a wretched substitute for the treasures of peace, 
contentment, and love of which it robs them. I 



116 MAEKIAGE. 

do not say that there must he absolutely none ; 
there must be enough to check undue encroach- 
ment on each other's rights — unreasonable offence 
in word or action ; but it must be a reasonable, 
placable pride, never manifesting itself in anger — 
just the pride that makes one element of proper 
self-respect, and but one of many others, so that 
it has no title to pre-eminence. 

If your husband is a proud man, then, there is 
the more reason to lay your own pride by, and 
strive to conquer him by gentleness. You remem- 
ber the fable of the sun and the wind. It is 
reasonable that you should be more patient than 
he. A man's temper has often much to chafe it 
in his business and his dealings with the world ; 
and he meets with irritations which make no part 
of woman's trial. In many cases, too, he lias 
responsibilities and anxieties which wear upon 
him, and make his nerves excitable. Besides, God 
has made woman by nature more patient, and 
more capable of long uncomplaining endurance 
than men, on purpose, I suppose, that she may be 
a better help-meet for him. " Consider all these 
things and be wise." Study your part carefully 
and conscientiously, and then act it to the best of 
your ability. Consider all the means by which 
your love for him may be manifested, as worthy of 
all pains. One of these, and that not the least 
important, is attention to his personal comfort. 



MAKRIAGE. 117 

Let your house be well ordered, your table nice, 
and in every way attractive, and sit at the head of 
it, a lady in your appointments. I do not mean, 
of course, by these, fine clothes and ornaments, but 
something in yourself, that they would not mis- 
become ; and in your apparel, taste and neatness. 
Welcome his guests, and show that you " delight 
to honor " them. 

Do not make him wait for his meals ; let all 
your domestic arrangements have reference to his 
convenience. Consult his peculiar tastes in little 
things, as well as in those of more importance ; 
and be attentive to his smallest wishes, if they are 
not unreasonable. Nothing is paltry in the minis- 
try of love, which, as I have said before, spiritual- 
izes material life. Being once assured of his affec- 
tion for you, do not be annoyed, or rather, do not 
be made to doubt it, when some customary mani- 
festation is withheld, or something occurs that 
seems almost to contradict it. Believe in it still, 
and your faith shall have its reward. 

As to the vexed question of obedience I have 
not much to say. If a man deserves to have it, 
he is always sure of it — that is, he is sure that 
in any difference of views or purposes that must 
result in action, his wife will yield her wishes to 
his ; partly because woman is naturally of a more 
self-sacrificing nature, and partly because God 
has implanted within her, something that makes 



118 MARRIAGE. 

her prefer to be ruled by her husband. Even if 
he does not deserve to be submitted to, therefore, 
the case will be pretty much the same. 

Still, as you will perceive from the views of 
marriage I have already given you, I regard it as a 
contract for the mutual, highest, and greatest 
advantage of the parties — in which they have no 
separate interests, but, on the contrary, a perfect 
oneness ; and that these therefore can be best pro- 
moted by mutual counsel, mutual forbearance, 
mutual action ; and that their gifts and powers of 
every sort ; are to constitute a common stock, fsom 
which they are to draw their resources for a happy, 
useful, worthy life ; becoming ever more and more 
rich in all that is of immortal value. I do not 
like slavery in a wife, any more than in any other 
domestic servant, although voluntary and cheerful, 
for it has a deteriorating effect upon both parties, 
in this, as in its more ordinary relations. A wife, 
to fulfil her part properly, must still have some 
individuality ; she must remain a thinking being, 
and retain some independence. As certain depart- 
ments belong especially to the husband, so do 
others to her ; and in these she must be permitted 
to have sway. She must still hold herself respon- 
sible as a being gifted with reason and intelligence 
for her own opinions on subjects of any import- 
ance ; and not adopt his, as a matter of course. I 
remember I was told once of a woman, who being 



MARRIAGE. 119 

asked her opinion upon a subject then very much 
discussed, said, " I can't tell you. I know I 
think just as my husband does, but I forget how 
that is." If a man likes that sort of obedience in a 
wife, I hope he may have it. A woman must not 
be merged in her husband, but simply united to 
him. She cannot be, at the same time, a non- 
entity and a helpmeet. Any difference in a point 
of conscience between man and wife would be a 
most painful occurrence ; but the law of conscience 
must, in all circumstances, be recognized as " the 
higher law." 

There is no state on earth so dreadful as an un- 
happy marriage. I hesitate whether I shall add 
outside the prison and the mad-house. If you are, 
or should be, wedded, to a selfish imperious man, 
whom you can in no way please, or satisfy, or im- 
prove ; and whose unreasonable requisitions from 
you, and the cruel privations he imposes upon you, 
make your life one long torment ; accept the fiery 
trial as well as you can, and improve it for your 
own benefit, if possible. Talk not of it, especially 
to your children ; at least until they are old 
enough to become your companions and coun- 
sellors. 

If he is intemperate, the same counsel is to be 
given. Your own instincts will tell you whether 
to remain with him, and try to aid him, or not. If 
your children suffer from his brutality, or his in- 



120 MARRIAGE. 

fluence in any way, you have to decide the matter 
with reference to them, as well as to yourself. 
Keep his fault from them as long as you can. I 
have known a great reward come from this, in a 
case where, after years of intemperance on the 
drunkard's part, and dreadful martyrdom on that 
of his wife, the fear that his children, of whom he 
was very fond, might become cognizant of his fault, 
was an almost perfect restraint upon him. 

Some women think the marriage contract of such 
obligation that they have no right to separate from 
a drunken husband. My own belief is, that when 
man reduces himself to the level of a brute, the 
obligation of keeping a contract, made with him 
when he was a man, ceases. Contracts, in all 
cases, I believe, cease to be binding when the con- 
ditions are not fulfilled by both parties. Neverthe- 
less, if you have promised to take your husband 
" for better, for worse," as I said before, you must 
settle this point with your own conscience. 

The worst case of all remains to be considered — 
and that is, of finding that you are forever and in- 
timately connected with a man who is deficient in 
integrity of character, or grossly sensual, to a de- 
gree amounting almost to complete demoralization. 
If you are conscientious and refined, you will live 
in such a hell of suffering that no water can cool 
your tongue. Think how, in all these cases, a wo- 
man has to suffer for her children, as well as her- 



J 



MAEEIAGE. 121 

self! Think of being part owner of children with 
such a man, who must, to a great degree, control 
their destiny — of having such tainted blood in their 
veins ! and oh, beware, beware how you ally 
yourselves unworthily — either through incautious- 
ness, or from low and unworthy motives ! 

6 



CHAPTER XL 



MATERNITY. 



"We hear, occasionally, of married women who 
have such a dread of bringing children into the 
world, and more still, perhaps, of the trouble and 
care involved in their training, as to wish that they 
may never become mothers. We cannot help 
regarding them as wanting in some essential ele- 
ment of woman's nature, and therefore as monstrous 
productions. I have no words to express my sense 
of the greatness of the gift of a living child. It is 
an immense boon to be self-multiplied, and so have 
an extension of our being — an increased number of 
feet to stand upon, of hands to help ourselves 
withal, and hearts to diffuse life-blood into the cur- 
rent from which we derive our strength, our an- 
imation, and our joy. But it is a still higher privilege 
to be made instrumental in the creation of a human 
soul and body — to have a being born of us, bone of 
our bone, and flesh of our flesh — who is kindred 
with God, partaker of his nature, capable of be- 
coming his " fellow-worker " and of fitting himself 
to dwell with him forever, in a state of endless pro- 



MATERNITY. 123 

gression. "Were it not for our habitually low and 
grovelling perceptions — for our insensibility to the 
wonders and mysteries of human existence, we 
should find something positively sublime in this 
part of our allotment, and strive to make ourselves 
nobly worthy of it — capable of fulfilling its high 
and mighty trusts. 

If a flower could be made to speak, to smile, 
and to incline lovingly towards us, as we ap- 
proached it, what curiosity and interest it would 
excite ! What multitudes would flock to see it ! 
"What an amount of admiration would be given to 
it! What sums would be expended upon it! 
What care would be bestowed upon its cultivation ! 
What nice judgment would be exercised in the se- 
lection and preparation of the soil most favorable 
to it — what pains would be taken not to have the 
exposure too sunny or too shady, nor the irrigation 
too little nor too much — what diligence would be 
used in keeping it free from weeds, and in loosen- 
ing the soil about it, so that it might be easily pen- 
etrated by all needful influences ! 

Fathers and Mothers ! would you do so much for 
a perishable flower, whose bloom is the evanescent 
glory of a single season ; and will you leave it for 
your children to relate truly the whole history of 
their childhood and youth, in the words of poor 
Jerry, " I was born and up I grew." Even this 
is abetter fate than that of many, not allowed such 



124 MATERNITY. 

freedom, such spontaneity; but whose moral 
growth is stinted, dwarfed, and distorted, partly by 
injudicious treatment, and partly by the want of 
what has been significantly called " a wholesome 
letting alone." This does not imply the absence 
of care and culture ; but that wise limitation of 
both, which w T ill leave to the child the degree of 
self-assertion necessary to a true individuality, and 
to harmony of being. The soul of a child under 
constant close supervision, and the perpetual recur- 
rence of criticism, admonition, and reproof, is well 
typified by the slave under the lash of a driver. 

Use, I beseech you, beforehand, the care and 
caution of the florist. Find out what conditions 
of every sort are most favorable to such an organ- 
ization in children as will best promote their moral, 
physical, and intellectual development ; and having 
ascertained these, fulfil them, conscientiously, so 
far as it is in your power to do so. Read over a 
part of section 2d, in the -5th chapter of Combe's 
Constitution of Man, about thirty pages, beginning 
with the 150th. Read, also, a page or two bearing 
upon kindred subjects, in the 8th chapter of 
Combe's Physiology. I will introduce here one 
paragraph from it, as follows : " Doctor Cald- 
well, too, the able and philanthropic advocate of 
an improved system of physical, moral, and intel- 
lectual education in America, is very urgent in en- 
forcing rational care, during the period of gestation, 



MATEENITY. 125 

on the part of every mother who values the future 
health and happiness of her progeny. Among 
other things, he insists on the necessity of moth- 
ers taking more exercise in the open air than they 
usually do ; and cautions them against allowing a 
feeling of false delicacy to keep them confined to 
their rooms for weeks or months. For the same 
reason, the mind ought to be kept free from 
gloom or anxiety, and in that state of cheerful 
activity which results from the proper exercise of 
the moral and social feelings, and intellect. But if 
seclusion and depression be hurtful to the unborn 
progeny ; thoughtless dissipation, late hours, danc- 
ing, waltzing, and rough exercise on horseback, 
irritability of temper, and peevishness of disposi- 
tion, are not less injurious. Hence the Margravine 
of Anspach most justly remarks that, ' when a 
woman is likely to become a mother, she ought to 
be doubly careful of her temper, and, in particular, 
to indulge in no ideas that are not cheerful, and 
no sentiments that are not kind. Such is the con- 
nection between the mind and body, that the fea- 
tures of the face are moulded, commonly, into an 
expression of the internal disposition ; and is it not 
natural to think that an infant, before it is born, 
may be affected by the temper of its mother.' '' 

In preparations for the care of your child, and 
of yourself, after its birth, I advise you to make 
yourself familiar with Combe's work on Infancy, 



126 MATERNITY. 

edited by Bell, and with Parker's Hand-book for 
Mothers. Inform yourself, beforehand, of all the 
means necessary to secure your complete restora- 
tion to full vigor after your child's birth, and scru- 
pulously fulfil every prescribed condition. Many a 
woman has made herself an invalid for life, by 
indiscretions and imprudences at this important 
period, committed in utter ignorance of the conse- 
quences to which they might lead. 

In regard to your child, your first care must be to 
make him ajlne animal, a process that should be con- 
ducted by rule, from the beginning. We do not need 
the starry heavens to proclaim what virtue there is in 
method and regularity; but the great law inscribed 
all over them, applies as well to every department, 
small and great, in this mundane sphere of ours. 
Let his food be given to him at regular times, as 
soon as there is the possibility of forming a habit 
in this respect ; that is, after he fairly wakes into 
being. Do not allow your own convenience or 
pleasure to interfere with what is desirable for him 
in this respect. Do not go, or stay away, when 
your duty requires you to be with him ; nor be 
tempted to stop a crying fit, on his part, by giving 
him his food out of season — a supposed remedy 
which probably serves but to aggravate the cause of 
his uneasiness. His sleep, also, should be made, as 
much as possible, to observe regular periods ; and, 
although this habit is not so certainly under your 



MATERNITY. 127 

control as the others, rnnch may be done by regu- 
lar, systematic efforts to promote and establish it. 
When he becomes old enough to be sent out for air 
and exercise, the same regularity should be observed. 

In contriving and arranging his dress, have refer- 
ence chiefly to his comfort, and the preservation of 
his health ; and not to the gratification of your own 
vanity. Because a child's neck and arms are beau- 
tiful, shall they be left bare in our severe winters, 
at the risk, often, of life — always of injury to the 
health ? Few pleasures, especially small pleasures, 
are procured at so great a cost. 

In regard to other conditions of health, diet, 
exercise, etc., I will only exhort you to bestow as 
much care upon your children as is given to your 
horses, who receive only the food "convenient" 
for them, and this in proper quantity, and after 
fixed intervals ; who are not allowed to eat anything 
out of time, nor immediately before or after active 
exercise ; whose skins are kept in excellent order, 
for health as well as for beauty, and who are regu- 
larly exercised. 

If I have said that the mother's first care must be 
to make her child a fine animal, it is because its 
higher being, its " inner man," can be properly 
developed and perfected only by means of a sound 
physical organization. Intellectual growth will 
proceed fast enough in a little child without direct 
cultivation, exactly in proportion as the immature 



128 MATERNITY. 

brain, the mind's instrument, acquires strength and 
solidity. 

But let us come back to the flower. You have 
one destined for God's garden of immortals, and 
from you, chiefly, must come the guardian care ; 
from you the sun and dew necessary for its proper 
expansion and perfect bloom. Should there be 
stinting and blight instead, whose will be the 
fault? 

God has placed in the mother's heart a deep well 
of tenderness. Is this alone sufficient for her needs ? 
Far from it. She must have, besides, wisdom, pa- 
tience, self-denial, forbearance, and a deep sense of 
responsibility. 

Love is the first life of the soul, the first symp- 
tom of its intelligence, the first indication of its 
origin in God, its nature kindred with the divine 
nature." At a very early period, the new-born child 
becomes responsive to the tread of its mother's foot, 
to her voice, to her smile ; and a sympathy is already 
established between them, by which she may act 
upon it, as life proceeds, for good or for evil, with an 
influence more powerful than that of any material 
agent. And, as it precedes all others, so it should 
be the leading, all-controlling influence on her part. 
But maternal love is an instinct which, acting 
alone, may, in the end, only harm the child. It, 
therefore, must be enlightened, made wise, and for- 
tified by a strong sense of duty. "This is love, 



MATERNITY. 129 

if a man lav down his life for his friend." The 
mother must, in some sort, " die" for her child. 
She dies as to her former life of freedom and irre- 
sponsibility, when the day's joy and the night's 
sleep were alike unbroken. She must " crucify" 
all those " affections" by means of which she may 
do harm to her child. The yearning of her nature 
for the uncontrolled indulgence of her love towards 
it, must be suppressed. And as, while it draws its 
nourishment from her breast, she denies her own 
appetite in regard to all food that may make this 
fountain less salubrious ; so she must strive to have 
nothing in herself, which, being imparted to her 
child, would be for the injury of its soul. 

In a letter upon parental weaknesses and follies 
so much will be implied on the subject of parental 
duties, by pointing out their frequent omission, 
that I shall enlarge much less upon them here. I 
will, however, say, at the risk of repetition, that a 
habit of obedience in the child must be early estab- 
lished, and that nothing is more easy of accom- 
plishment, even by gentle means. The human 
being, in the earliest as well as in all the subsequent 
stages of his progress, submits, without much ques- 
tion, remonstrance, or complaint, to the inevitable. 
Let your child see, at an early period, that obe- 
dience is inevitable. This point can be established 
without any severity, simply by firmness and con- 
sistency on the part of the parents. 



130 MATERNITY. 

Some conscientious mothers, shrinking from any- 
very efficient process of discipline, beguile themselves 
into the idea that they can do their duty, and accom- 
plish the necessary object, by perpetual threats of 
punishment, which usually result in nothing more 
than its indefinite postponement. In my opinion, 
threats should be very rarely used, and, if used, should 
be fulfilled with the unerring certainty of fate. Let 
the child be made to understand, once for all, that 
if he is disobedient, or in any way r an offender, he 
will certainly be subjected to some penalty, which 
will be inflicted summarily. If men, in the ripeness 
and fall maturity of their powers, and after the expe- 
rience of half a lifetime, find it often difficult to 
guide themselves aright, so that they would not 
only be sorely perplexed, but ready almost to de- 
spair at times, but for being permitted to seek the 
aid of their Heavenly Father ; how inexpressible 
is the folly of leaving to his own devices, the child 
who has yet to learn his way, and acquire the 
strength and ability to follow it. If such a course 
tended to secure his own temporary enjoyment, it 
could not be permitted or excused, on that account ; 
but, the reverse is the case. The child who is 
under proper parental control, is a thousand times 
happier than one spoiled or injured by indulgence. 
The latter is a nuisance to himself, and to everybody 
else. No wonder that Charles Lamb, at a dinner 
where a troop of unruly children were present, 



MATERNITY. 131 

gave his famous toast, " God bless the memory of 
King Herod." The humorist was permitted his 
joke, and it passed for one ; but what called it forth 
was a grave reality, of a kind often severely felt by 
the less privileged, whom courtesy restrains from 
uttered criticism. 

The spoiled child is apt to be boisterous, rude, 
ill-mannered, inconsiderate of others, restless and 
dissatisfied at all times ; and, when he encounters 
opposition, furious or sulky. A child, wmose life 
is wisely as well as lovingly ordered for him, is 
reasonable, quiet, restrained, courteous, contented, 
and everywhere acceptable. The difference be- 
tween them is well illustrated by their different 
demeanor at table. The one takes the food per- 
mitted to him, eats it contentedly with good relish, 
and thanks his mother, if not God, for it. The other 
selects this, refuses that, is apt to be dissatisfied 
with everything, and chooses often to his own hurt. 

I was once greatly pleased in dining with an old 
pupil, when her four little boys were at table, to 
see how admirably she had trained them in these 
respects. They behaved, all, like little gentlemen. 
They were very quiet ; did not speak, without first 
asking permission, as "May I speak, mamma?" and 
submitted cheerfully to the refusal of anything 
denied them. Yet there was no painful restraint 
upon them. They were bright and happy as pos- 
sible ; for the atmosphere which surrounded them 



132 MATERNITY. 

was that of the wisest, tenderest love," and, there- 
fore, a heavenly atmosphere. 

The habit of obedience once established in re- 
gard to all the little things that make up a child's 
daily life, will remain fixed while the necessity for 
it exists. 

Mothers crave admiration for their children. 
The best way, by far, to render them pleasing, is 
to make them good, reasonable, and considerate. 
This does not belong to a very high class of mo- 
tives ; but God permits us to be influenced by all 
which are not positively unworthy. I have al- 
ready spoken of the importance and duty of culti- 
vating good manners in them, which is really quite 
an essential part of their moral training. An ill- 
governed child is never well mannered — he cannot 
be — for good manners imply some degree of rever- 
ence or respect for others, which he has not — self- 
restraint, which he has not — consideration, which 
he has not — and a spirit of self-renunciation, of 
which he is, almost, as a matter of course, in- 
capable. Has it never occurred to you, when you 
have seen a mature human being perpetually self- 
absorbed, living, thinking, acting with almost ex- 
clusive reference to himself — what a poor fool he 
is, and what a contemptible appearance he makes. 
Living in the midst of God's wonderful works, he 
admires only himself. Belonging to a race illus- 
trated by heroes, martyrs, scholars, poets, artists, 



MATERNITY. 133 

he esteems chiefly himself. He abstracts himself, 
so to speak, from the sum of liviDg, throbbing 
humanity, and remains a poor, dry, isolated unit — 
at best, a Johnny Horner, putting his fingers into 
all possible pies, and exclaiming, inwardly, at least, 
''What a great boy I am!" as he pulls out the 
plums. And will you leave your child to become 
such a dolt as this ? If you spoil him by foolish 
indulgence — unless he gets, in some other way, 
the discipline you withhold from him, or has an 
uncommonly superior nature, with strong inherent 
counteracting tendencies, he will hardly escape 
such a destiny. 

Do not minister to your child's vanity. It is 
natural and right for parents to enjoy, in common, 
everything that their child can bestow. Hence 
comes the habit of repeating to each other, in his 
presence, when he is too young to comprehend 
what is said, his own smart sayings or pretty do- 
ings, and what other people think and say about 
him. This habit once established, there is danger 
of omitting all reference to the period when he 
becomes so far advanced in intelligence as to be 
injured by his own praises. 

Do not let him be made the subject of praise or 
flattery by others, if you can possibly help it. Do 
not exhibit his little accomplishments to strangers. 
Let his dress be neat and tasteful, but not conspicu- 
ous in anv respect. 



134 MATERNITY. 

Do not reward his good actions or conduct by 
cake, sweetmeats, etc. Make your love and favor 
his most precious reward — his moving principle — 
cultivating at the same time, as fast as he is ca- 
pable of it, a sentiment of duty in everything, and 
enforcing the habitual operation of principle. 

I do not believe in the necessity of any severity 
with a child, in order to secure his good conduct. 
Firmness and perfect consistency, provided that 
you set him an example in yourself of all that you 
require of him, will alone enable you to establish 
such an influence over him as you desire to main- 
tain. Under such a system, if he sees that his 
misconduct makes you unhappy, this will have far 
more effect upon him than any exhibition of anger 
on your part. But he must not be excused from 
his duty, nor restored to favor after violating or 
neglecting it, until he has suffered a rjroper penalty 
and shown a true repentance. 

I have heard an interesting anecdote of the son 
of a distinguished New England clergyman, who 
himself became distinguished, which I shall give 
in confirmation of my views. I will call the boy 
George. His father lived in one of our cities at a 
time when George was at that period of life in 
which horses have a special fascination for their 
future masters, and he fell into the habit of fre- 
quenting livery stables. This was, of course, a 
forbidden indulgence, and every indulgence was 



MATERNITY. 135 

inevitably punished oy a whipping. George made 
up his mind deliberately that the pleasure was 
worth the cost, and seemed to think it a matter to 
be decided entirely by the rule of loss and gain. 
One evening, when the whipping had been un- 
usually severe, his father sat down and said, " My 
son, I don't know what to do for you, nor what is 
to become of you ;" and, resting his head upon 
his hand, began to weep. The boy looked up, saw 
his father's tears, and said, immediately, " Father, 
I won't go to the stables any more, sir." He 
could bear the rod on his back, but he could not 
bear his father's grief thus palpably revealed to 
him ; and he kept his word. 

The religious education of children may be be- 
gun at a very early period. By this I mean that 
the example and teachings of Christ may be made 
to act upon them. I knew a little boy who came 
in crying one day, with his cheek scratched and 
bleeding, complaining of the treatment he had re- 
ceived from a playfellow. "And why didn't you 
scratch back again?" was asked by a lad sitting 
by. " Why, that's against the Bible rule, you 
know," was the reply. Another boy said to his 
mother, who commended him for having been for 
some time unusually good, " I think I have been 
better, mother, ever since you told me about Jesus 
Christ." 

I was one day present in her own house with a 



136 MATEENITY. 

lady who was remarkable for her admirable train- 
ing of her children in all respects, when a bright 
little girl, about six or seven years old, came run- 
ning in, and said, "Mother, Sally Bliss says that 
Lucy Billings has been doing so and so to her, and 
she is very angry, indeed !" 

"And did you ask Sally," her mother replied, 
" whether she had not sometimes done the same 
thing ?" 

"Why, no, I didn't, mother; but that would 
have been like what our Saviour said to the woman 
who lived with another woman's husband, wouldn't 
it ?" If little children are thus brought to Jesus 
by their mothers, he will surely take them in his 
arms and bless them ; and they may gradually 
learn from his lips and his life, all by which they 
may best shape and govern their own. Thus, from 
an early period, will they become religious — hound, 
held, limited, restrained by a conscientious regard 
to duty and fealty to God, according to the highest 
example. That the religion which Jesus taught, 
can be so easily adapted to the comprehension of 
a child, and brought to bear upon its little life, is 
a fact having the same touching significance with 
the wonderful declaration of his oneness with all 
mankind. 

Of the cultivation of that inestimable virtue, 
truth — a jewel — in the absence of which the shine 
of all others is dimmed, I shall speak elsewhere. 



MATERNITY. 137 

There is one subject which I must not fail to 
mention somewhere, and perhaps.it may as well 
be here. If a child has any intelligence, any 
activity of mind, its curiosity is early awakened 
upon all subjects that come within its notice. Of 
course, this is true of a certain class, usually 
considered and treated as " forbidden " sub- 
jects. "When inquiry first arises in regard to 
these, it is quite customary for the young child to 
have some absurdity palmed off upon it, in place 
of anything that approximates the real truth. As 
children become older, meeting the profoundest re- 
serve on the part of their mothers, in this direction, 
they seek the information they desire, from school- 
mates, or from servants ; and rarely, if ever, escape 
having most vulgar, if not wicked associations 
established in their minds, in connection with 
what, under proper guidance and instruction, 
would no more excite them, than the growth and 
opening of a flower. The true method is this : If 
the child's curiosity is excited before the proper 
time to gratify it, say simply, " You are not old 
enough to know this now. I will tell you by and 
by ; but promise me that you will not ask any- 
body else." If such intimacy and confidence have 
been established between you and your child as 
ought to exist, even at this early period of his life, 
he will be satisfied, and will obey you implicitly. 
Keep your promise, unfold these subjects gradu- 



138 MATERNITY. 

ally, as lie advances in maturity, and, my word for 
it, you will never see him betray other than rev- 
erential emotion when allusion is made to them, 
either purposely or accidentally. 

Persuade your husbands to give to their boys the 
knowledge that may save them from future vice 
and ruin, by showing them its consequences. Doc- 
tor Beddoes, an English physician of eminence, 
who wrote a work upon the art of preventing dis- 
ease, urges this point very strongly ; and says that 
if parents would only do their duty in this respect, 
a vast amount of suffering would be saved. He 
tells the story of a young man of his acquaintance 
whom he knew to have fallen into a bad way of 
life. He invited, him one day to visit with him a 
hospital under his charge, and took him into those 
wards where were the most frightful exhibitions 
of retributive disease. He saw horror gathering 
on the face of his young friend, who said to him, 
as they emerged from the building, " Sir, you 
don't know what you have saved me from," and 
then went on to explain himself, not knowing that 
his attendant was in his secrets. 



CHAPTER XII. 



PARENTAL WEAKNESS AND FOLLY. 



It is a saying a good deal older, probably, than 
our language, that there is no limit to human de- 
lusion, and yet its daily developments seem new 
and striking. It is confined to no creed, religious 
or political ; it pervades every sect, every people ; 
it fastens itself upon all the relations of life, it 
influences all the intercourse of society ; it sits in 
our churches ; it stalks in our places of business ; 
it is at home in our households ; it keeps com- 
pany with high and low, rich and poor. 

It is present at the most solemn religious cere- 
monies ; it " assists " at weddings and funerals ; 
and claims a special property in epitaphs, funeral 
sermons, and biographical notices. It fills im- 
portant stations, and invents mighty schemes ; it 
creates and it destroys ; it builds up and pulls 
down ; it is now a miserable comforter, now a per- 
nicious flatterer ; now a dispeller of clouds, now 
an extinguisher of light ; it exalts and it abases ; 
it is two-faced ; it smiles and it frowns ; it laughs 
and it weeps ; it cheers with hope, and kills with 



140 PARENTAL WEAKNESS AND FOLLY. 

despair ; it struts and it crawls ; it towers in pride ; 
it bites the dust in abasement ; it swells a man 
of ordinary calibre into the assumption of great- 
ness ; changes a mere cypher in society into a 
significant figure ; and sometimes, though more 
rarely, reduces a man lower than his proper stand- 
ard. It is full of whims, while it claims to be 
reasonable; it is self-seeking while it imagines it- 
self disinterested ; it mistakes self-love for the love 
of others ; the fear of hell ; for the love of God. 

It is sometimes asked, " What would life be 
without some degree of delusion?" Certainly 
childhood and youth would be uncrowned of many 
wreaths ; manhood deprived of many a song that 
cheers its toil ; and even the rest of age, would 
lose some pleasant dreaming. If life were all a 
certainty, the heavens over our head would be- 
come as brass, and the earth under our feet as 
iron. Harmless delusions are well typified by the 
clouds of a beautiful sky, which soothe, comfort, 
rejoice, or delight us, as our mood requires ; but 
they exist by reason of the very sun itself, and so 
must the sun of duty remain always clear. 

Delusions that dim or darken that sun, are va- 
pors of hell. You may well wonder to what all 
this is tending. My mind is full, at present, of 
the subject of parental delusions, which are of a 
two-fold character ; those which mislead parents 
in the education of their children, and those which 



PAEENTAL WEAKNESS AND FOLLY. 141 

prevent a proper estimate of their characters ; 
the two classes together, beiDg often sufficient 
to exclude the true light of heaven from the 
home circle. Many parents are unwilling to sub- 
ject their children to discipline in any way, or 
to punish them for wrong-doing ; to prohibit what 
is hurtful in food ; to deny them improper amuse- 
ments ; to require of them anything that involves 
hardship or self-denial ; and they fancy it is be- 
cause they love them so much. Whereas, it is 
simply because they love themselves, better than 
they love their children's good. They shrink from 
what will give themselves pain through them. 

Occasionally, but much less often, the opposite 
fault is committed, of urging a child to the utmost 
exertion of which it is capable ; but from a simi- 
lar reason, viz. : the gratification the parent will 
derive from any distinction he may attain. Now, 
the object the parent should have ever in mind, 
and should use all his best efforts to promote in 
eveiy possible way, is, the best good of the child, 
for its own sake. Mrs. A. and Mrs. B. live side by 
side. Mrs. A. becomes convinced that her child 
will be better for a change of scene, and for new 
influences, and decides to send her away. Mrs. 
B. feels utterly unwilling and incompetent to 
part with hers, who is in the same need of a 
change ; declares she cannot do it ; wonders at 
Mrs. A's want of feeling ; and congratulates her- 



142 PARENTAL WEAKNESS AND FOLLY. 

self upon her own greater parental love ; never 
suspecting, poor weak woman, that it is not her 
child, hut herself, who is her own paramount ob- 
ject. I know a Christian mother, whose heroism 
far surpassed, in one instance, that of any Spartan 
mother. Her eldest son being very useful in the 
family, whose means were narrow, was kept at 
home until he was eighteen ; and then was allowed 
to go to New York, and see what he could do for 
himself; or in the words of an old phrase, " to 
seek his fortune." He apprenticed himself to an 
apothecary who agreed to give him board and 
lodging, besides a very small stipend for his 
clothes. He entered upon this engagement in the 
autumn. Three months passed away, and he 
wrote to his mother, that his lodging was on the 
floor under the counter, with a blanket thrown 
over him ; his food, whatever he could eat from 
his hand in the shop, and he did not think he could 
remain in the situation he had procured for him- 
self. She wrote to him in reply, that it would be 
a poor beginning of his responsible life, to break 
the first engagement he had ever made, and he 
must go through with it. 

I have no doubt that she lay awake many a 
cold night, shivering in heart, at the idea of his 
comfortless condition ; but she preferred any suf- 
fering of mind in her own case, to the danger of 
her child's soul receiving harm. Her example is 



PARENTAL WEAKNESS AND FOLLY. 143 

not the less impressive, because her judgment was 
at fault. When a contract is not kept by one of 
the parties, it certainly is not binding upon the 
other. However, the discipline was not lost ; and 
not many years elapsed after his term of appren- 
ticeship had expired, before the young man began 
a yearly remittance of a thousand dollars to his 
parents, the expression, or equivalent to them, of 
what money could not buy ; of treasure laid up in 
heaven. 

There are commandments written on the con- 
stitution of a human being, on brain, muscle, 
bone, and nerve, as binding as those which were 
traced by the finger of God upon the tables 
of stone. We are prone to disregard the " Thou 
shalt," and " Thou shalt not," of the Creator, 
and make enactments of our own in direct opposi- 
tion to them. The law that all health and growth 
of mind and body, are dependent upon action, is 
clearly revealed by palpable facts as well as clear- 
ly set forth in works on physiology. Witness the 
foot of a Chinese lady, and the general aspect of 
a company of Shaker women. If a hand, or an 
arm, or a leg is disused from any cause, it becomes 
shrunken, and loses, in process of time, all power 
of action. If a muscle is disused, it becomes 
obliterated, and an inactive brain becomes slug- 
gish and torpid. The Creator has wisely pro- 
vided the restlessness and curiosity which charac- 



144 PAEENTAL WEAKNESS AND FOLLY. 

terize nearly all young children, to keep their 
minds and bodies in incessant activity. But the 
period comes when this direct interference on his 
part ceases, and the child is placed for the proper 
development of its physical functions, and the 
cultivation of its mental faculties, more immedi- 
ately in the hands of its parents. 

The first thing necessary on the part of the pa- 
rent is authority, on that of the child, implicit 
obedience. Yet how many, even little children, 
completely rule their parents. How many are 
tyrants in the nursery, and rebels in the school- 
room ; and how often are matters made worse, by 
vain endeavors on the part of parents, to screen 
these facts even from their own view, by a pre- 
tence of discipline, by an active tongue : " Go to 
school this minute, John." 

" Oh, mother, I must just finish this kite." 

"Don't you hear me, sir? Go to school, this 
moment, I say. Do you hear me ?" 

The boy still works at his kite ; the mother is, 
perhaps, called away. An hour later, she returns. 
" John, leave that kite, this instant, and run to 
school." " Oh, mother, it is too late to-day, and 
my kite will be all spoiled if I leave it" " Well, 
now remember, if you do not go to school to-mor- 
row at the proper time, I shall certainly punish 
you." There is a great deal of this miserable and 
most culpable imbecility. If a mother could 



PARENTAL WEAKNESS AXD FOLLY. 14-5 

be made aware of the immense injury she does her 
child, by means of it, would she pursue a different 
course"? Certainly not, if she loves herself better 
than she loves her child. 

The period comes when life can be no longer 
mere play, and discipline begins. The child 
must have tasks assigned him. These should 
be carefully adapted to his capacity, bodily and 
intellectual, and then strictly required. As his 
power increases, the demand should increase ; and, 
in order to ensure the proper development of his 
powers, they should be taxed a little. He must 
be required to do what costs him some effort, in 
order to grow to the full stature of a man. He 
must be made to practice self-denial, and resist 
temptation, in order to gain moral strength. Pro- 
vide a child with habits of industry, accustom him 
to habitual efforts, make it easy to him, by daily 
practice, to deny himself what is wrong, or what 
is in any way injurious to him, and he is sure to 
be a hero in life's conflict. Pursue the opposite 
course, and if he do not fail altogether, he is still 
useless to himself and to others — useless, and 
probably an incumbrance. 

A most invaluable discipline may begin at a very 
early period, simply by accustoming children to be 
contented with proper food, and to take, without 
murmur, the denial of what is not considered good 
for them. In well-ordered families, they are accus- 



146 PARENTAL WEAKNESS AND FOLLY. 

tomed to sit at well-ordered tables, and see many 
articles of food eaten by others, which they are not 
allowed to have. And, besides the moral as well as 
physical benefit thus imparted to them , they are a 
thousand times better satisfied, more content with 
their lot in this respect, than the children who are 
allowed to eat all sorts of things, at all sorts of 
times. These are never satisfied, but have a per- 
petually restless craving for something more, and 
something different. So it is in every other de- 
partment of training or education. The child that 
is made reasonable and obedient, that is required 
to do daily tasks faithfully and regularly, is, be- 
yond comparison, happier than the child spoiled 
by indulgence — permitted to choose and refuse 
whatever he pleases, and, in fact, to rule those who 
should be his masters. This, however, is a con- 
sideration of inferior moment to another vastly 
more important difference — that of the effect of 
the two opposite modes of treatment upon the 
character and chances of usefulness. In the one 
case, a wholesome discipline is gently but firmly 
enforced, which, instead of interfering with the 
child's enjoyment, really promotes it ; a habit 
of obedience is formed ; a proper filial sentiment 
finds its growth ; habits of order are established ; 
a sentiment of duty and reverence is inspired ; the 
conscience is cultivated, and the whole being in- 
vigorated and favorably developed. In the other 



PARENTAL WEAKNESS AND FOLLY. 147 

case, all this is reversed. A child being almost 
purely a young animal, with all its animal tenden- 
cies in strong operation, can only have that part of 
its nature which is to place it above the brutes, 
and link it with angels, developed by the careful 
guidance and direction of a superior being. If 
allowed to have its own way, it remains in nearer 
kindred with irrational creatures. Its passions 
have strong sway ; there is no law put in its mind, 
to war against the law of the flesh ; it has little 
chance for intellectual growth — still less for any 
moral advancement ; it is self-absorbed, selfish, 
exacting — a nuisance to itself and to others. Oh, 
ye parents, you cannot always save your children 
from everything hard to bear, and difficult or dis- 
agreeable to do — that is, from the only things 
most essential to their well-being. Fortunately, 
they cannot escape the discipline of life ; but, oh, 
what infinite wrong you do to them, by pursuing a 
course which so completely'unfits them to meet it. 
In any case where the results of your indulgent 
treatment have been finally overcome, in part, at 
least ; it is because your children, by very hard effort 
in after-life, have done that for themselves which 
you ought to have done for them, but failed to do, 
because you loved yourselves too well. 

What is there in life worth having that can be 
gained without effort ! Must not great pains be 
taken to acquire knowledge, and then to keep it ? Is 



148 PARENTAL WEAKNESS AND FOLLY. 

not the same true of property — of every good habit 
of mind and body — of every good practice ? Are 
not the painstaking, the industrious, sure always of 
success, whatever their vocation ; and are not the 
indolent and the careless equally sure of failure ? 
Does not every task or lesson that is a little diffi- 
cult, if well accomplished, make the next easier — so 
that power is perpetually accumulated ? And is 
there not in the opposite case, of exemption from 
everything that taxes the mind or body, a corre- 
sponding loss of power ? Is not the law of action 
the law of preservation ? Do not still waters stag- 
nate ? Does not a deserted house go to ruin ? Do 
not the moth and the rust corrupt the accumulated 
goods stowed away by the miserly and the over- 
careful ? Does not neglected soil cover itself with 
weeds — a neglected fruit-tree with insects — a ne- 
glected body with vermin ? You are careful for the 
personal cleanliness of your children. You would 
by no means omit the daily bath, and frequent 
change of linen. You teach them to walk ; and are 
careful, perhaps, to have them walk, and run, and 
leap, and sport, for physical invigoration But you 
carefully deprive them of any corresponding process 
for the mind and the soul. The one may be left 
feeble, half-developed ; the other stained with sin, 
fevered with passion, or filled with meanness — 
made forever incapable of any high aspiration be- 
fitting an immortal, because, forsooth, you cannot 



PARENTAL WEAKNESS AND EOLLT. 149 

bear to place tliem under any wholesome, system- 
atic restraint — to deny anything that they ask, en- 
force anything that they dislike, or require of them 
what they call "hard." You please yourselves 
with contriving and arranging for them a tasteful, 
becoming dress ; their curls and dimples delight 
you, and make you proud ; but you are indifferent 
as to the ornament the Apostle commands, and care 
little, comparatively, for the graces of the "inward " 
man. That portion of them, which is one day to 
be consigned to the earth, ashes to ashes, dusr to 
dust, is the object of your constant care and atten- 
tion — while that which is to survive and live for- 
ever, suffers wrong, neglect, and injury at your 
hands. Eepeatedly I have been asked to excuse a 
pupil from some study which she complained of to 
her parents, as particularly hard. I have never 
granted the recpiest in a single instance. Eeal hard 
work is what the student needs — work that taxes 
his industry and his perceptions. A watchful, ju- 
dicious teacher will carefully ascertain the measure 
of each pupil's capacity, and thus give him what, 
by diligent effort, he can certainly accomplish in a 
reasonable time, without unreasonable fatigue. 

The first great delusion, then, against which I 
would recpiest parents to guard themselves, is, the 
mistaking love of themselves, for love of their 
children. The next is, that which makes them 
blind to their faults, and utterly impatient of all 



150 PARENTAL WEAKNESS AND FOLLY. 

criticism and remark upon them, even from those 
whose right or duty it is to make them. There 
are innocent parental delusions, comparatively in- 
nocent at least, with respect to the personal charms, 
or mental endowments of children, so common, as 
to give rise to the inquiry, " What becomes of all 
the remarkable children V How does it happen, 
that the majority of grown-up people are not re- 
markable — but ordinary ? But the delusion that 
blinds them to their children's faults, or makes 
them more careful to conceal, than to correct them, 
is of a most serious and mischievous nature. The 
question is often asked, " Are parents as blind as 
they seem to be ?" In many cases, yes ; but there 
is a large class, I think, who belong to the category 
of those in regard to whom it is said, " There are 
none so blind as those who will not see." 

I was once told by a high-minded, conscientious 
woman, who had been for many years at the head of 
a large school, that for years she had ceased to tell 
parents of the faults of their children, who were un- 
der her care. She reported all that she could in sin- 
cerity which was favorable, and passed over the rest, 
contenting herself with doing her utmost to im- 
prove them. I marvelled at this, but some facts in 
her experience, which I afterwards learned, ex- 
plained it to me. She once sent to some parents, 
a correspondence that took place in her school- 
room between two very young girls, showing a 



PARENTAL WEAKNESS AND FOLLY 151 

familiarity with most unfitting and improper 
themes. The children were both immediately re- 
moved from her school, and the parents pursued 
her with hate ever after, manifested by acts of open 
hostility. On another occasion, she saved a young 
lady, who was her pupil, from an elopement. The 
story of her danger came by strange circumstances 
to her ears. She disbelieved it, but it made her 
uneasy, and she carried it to the parents. The 
girl was summoned, and inquiry instituted, where- 
upon she fainted away. Her trunks were found 
packed, and so the story was established. The 
girl was removed, no one knew whither, for a year. 
Think you these parents were grateful for her rescue 
from open degradation and a fearful Me ? On the 
contrary, though " professors of religion," they 
never forgave this act of friendship, and requited 
it, through a long course of years, by doing all in 
their power to injure its author, and diminish her 
reputation and popularity as a teacher. 

It is difficult to analyze the feelings, the state of 
mind, that exists in such a case. There is one class 
of haters whom even the good, who fulfil the per- 
fect law of love, and therefore never furnish any real 
ground of offence, cannot avoid — the class who hate 
those to whom they do wrong. These are sufficiently 
inexplicable ; but not so much so as another class, 
who hate those from whom they receive a great 
benefit, provided it is conferred under circumstances 



152 PARENTAL WEAKNESS AND FOLLY. 

that bring mortification to themselves, though 
without any fault on the part of their benefactor. 
And even good people, who are incapable, under 
any circumstances, of real hatred, nevertheless, 
areso unreasonably sensitive upon the subject of 
their children, as to excite amazement ; so that, 
even in caring, as teacher and guide, for the children 
of one's dearest relatives, it may become a ques- 
tion, " Shall I do my duty by their child — requiring 
of it the strict performance of its duty, as I do of 
other children — reprove and punish its faults — and 
so risk losing the affection and good-will of its 
parents ; or shall I do what they prefer — excuse 
their children from discipline and correction?" 

Oh, ye foolish parents ! If your child has a bodily 
ailment neglected, how is your ire excited — and 
justly, too. If that is required of him which injures 
his bodily health, how speedily you would remove 
him from the taskmaster. If the early symptoms 
of disease in his case did not receive proper atten- 
tion, and a long fever ensued, or a consumption 
were the result, you would never forgive his care- 
less, negligent, or indifferent attendant. If he 
were stinted in his growth, by a scanty supply of 
food, or suffered from an uncomfortable lodging, 
how would you resent the injury ! But you will 
suffer no moral pathology to detect the diseases of 
his soul — no careful treatment of the better and 
higher part of his being — because, forsooth, the 



PARENTAL WEAKNESS AND FOLLY. 153 

supposition that faults and vices exist in your 
child, wounds your own self-love ; and he that 
points them out is regarded as your enemy. Of 
course, you cannot deny that he has faults, because 
every child has them ; but you are like those who 
constantly confess themselves, in their prayers, the 
chief of sinners, and resent the imputation by their 
fellows of any single error or imperfection ; not to 
speak of positive offences. You make confession, 
on the same general scale, of the errors of your 
children ; but deny them all in the detail, and be- 
stow freely your ill-will upon those who bear tes- 
timony to them, however conscientiously. Nay, 
in your eagerness to prove that they do not exist, 
you aid and promote them. A pupil of mine once 
reported of herself to some fellow-pupils something 
very bad, which I thought her parents ought to 
know, and which had occurred, ac wording to her own 
account, before she came to me. When I related 
this to her father, he declared himself certain that 
she had never said it. The next day I was re- 
quested to meet the mother and daughter at their 
own house. The mother, in presence of her child, 
talked a long time to convince me it was a thing 
which never could have happened by any possi- 
bility, and then, of course, came the denial of the 
child. How was there any chance for her to utter 
the truth. After a solemn appeal I then made to 
her, not to burden her conscience with a lie, she 



154 PARENTAL WEAKNESS AND FOLLY. 

said, " Well, what I told was something that 
happened when I was a little girl." " What, when 

we lived in v" "Yes." "Well, that was 

when you were only four years old." Then turn- 
ing to me the mother continued, " Surely, Mrs. S., 
you could not lay up against a child anything done 
at so early a period." She took no notice what- 
ever of the fact that at first the child had denied 
the whole thing, and then admitted it, referring it 
to a very early period. It was evident to me that 
her anxiety was not so much that her child should 
be free from offence, as that she should seem to be 
so. The father was angry, the mother civil, but 
said, " Of course, hereafter, I shall think it best to 
keep my child under my own care." 



CHAPTER MI. 



THE SHAMS OF SOCIETY ET AL. VERSUS TEUTH. 

It is some thousands of years since the Psalmist 
wrote, in answer to the inquiry " Lord, who shall 
abide in thy tabernacle, who shall dwell in thy 
holy hill ? He that walketh uprightly, and work- 
eth righteously, and speaketh the truth in his heart" 
It is a good deal more than eighteen hundred years 
since the one great Teacher inculcated the beautiful 
virtue of truth by precept and by example, exhib- 
iting it in his life and in his death ; and still that 
virtue, in its purity, is so rare even among those 
who call themselves by his name, as to draw forth 
remark and excite admiration, if not surprise, 
wherever it is found. This is true of individuals 
and true of bodies of men. 

When I speak of truth, I mean truth of charac- 
ter, as well as of speech — honesty and uprightness 
of intention, as well as that which fulfils merely 
the letter of the law : the truth of him, whose 
eye is single, and therefore his whole body full of 
light, and who is willing to be seen and known, 
through and through ; who is found under all cir- 



156 THE SHAMS OF SOCIETY 

cumstances perfectly reliable — " who sweareth to 
his own hurt, and changeth not ; who bears the 
stamp of sterling coin that always has the true 
ring ; who is sure to tread the straight and narrow 
way of duty, however broad and attractive may 
be the paths which lead away from it. Such men 
and such women are pillars of strength in families, 
in communities, in nations. 

The natural world, without the elements of law 
and order; with day and night — summer and 
winter — seed-time and harvest, in irregular succes- 
sion, would be a fitting type of the moral world, 
without the stable element of truth perpetually 
existing, from generation to generation, in the 
hearts of the fifty, forty, twenty, or ten righteous 
of cities and villages. 

Why are the mass of a people calling them- 
selves Christians, and favored with Christian insti- 
tutions, so deficient in this essential virtue ; with 
just enough to make society cohere ; with so little 
excess over that which is imperatively enforced by 
conventionalisms, by expediency, and by criminal 
laws ? 

I think there are three obvious causes ; there 
may be many more. These three are defects in 
education, insufficient or erroneous religious in- 
struction, and the shams of society. A little 
child's first departure from the truth usually oc- 
curs before he is old enough to distinguish be- 



ET AL. VERSUS TRUTH. 157 

tween right and wrong — to choose the good, and 
refuse the evil. But, nevertheless, it is not to be 
passed over on this account. He must be care- 
fully instructed from the first, in the beauty and 
obligations of truth, the odiousness and sin of 
lying ; and the aim of the parent must be to make 
him true in conduct, as well as in words. There 
must be no severity that will make him afraid to 
tell the truth — no foolish indulgence that he can 
count upon to save him from the penalty of un- 
truth, or the legitimate consequences of a fault 
confessed ; and, above all, the parents themselves 
must be true in heart and in life. 

" Have you driven the cow home ?" I once heard 
a father ask of a little boy, not more, I think, than 
five years old, upon whom that duty devolved. It 
was a dark, rainy night, in the autumn. 

" Yes, sir ; but I did not put up the bars." 

" Then, my son, you must go directly back 
again." 

The decree was obeyed without a murmur. The 
father was one who would have much preferred to 
save his child from the disagreeable service, by 
performing it himself, but that the child's good 
was far dearer to him than the indulgence of his 
own feelings. The want of perfect fidelity in duty, 
must not be excused because it is confessed. The 
child had been too conscientiously trained not to 
make the confession. 



158 THE SHAMS OF SOCIETY 

Many parents are sadly deficient in duty to their 
children from a species of self-indulgence, often 
miscalled parental love, that cannot bear to bring 
any trial, any inconvenience, even, upon them. 
This reluctance proceeds from the pure selfish in- 
stinct, unenlightened by reason or conscience. 
True parental love is that which makes the best 
good of the child its highest object. 

There would be an immense accession to truth 
and honesty of dealing, as also to the comfort of 
living, by simply cultivating in children a strict 
habit in regard to the keeping of promises. They 
should be made to attach sacredness to a promise 
even when it has reference to small matters, of no 
great importance in themselves ; and to feel that 
their word once given, is always to be kept. The 
word promise, when associated with obligation, is 
usually supposed to imply an engagement form- 
ally, if not solemnly made ; but this is not its neces- 
sary meaning. A promise is a simple engagement 
to do or not to do, certain things ; and should be 
considered obligatory under all circumstances. 
Yet, so far is this from being the case, even in mat- 
ters of business, that an artisan, a mechanic, a 
dress-maker, etc., who comes at the time appoint- 
ed, or has an article finished, or a job completed at 
the time specified, is hardly to be found in those 
parts of the country where little or no competition 
exists. 



ET AL. VEESUS TEUTH. 159 

Every one knows the force of habit, yet how 
little is thought of its immense value as an auxil- 
iary. I once had the charge of a young lassie, re- 
markable for truth of character, who was danger- 
ously ill of a fever that affected her brain. Great 
importance was attached to the punctual adminis- 
tration of the medicines prescribed for her. I said 
to her, " afc such a time, the doctor wants you 
should take more of this, will you do it?" " Yes." 
Before the moment arrived she had become more 
wild, and positively refused the prescribed dose. 
" But you promised," I said, " to take it." " Did 
I promise, Mrs. Sedgwick?" she asked, appealing 
to me very earnestly. " Yes, certainly." "Then 
I shall do it," and it was swallowed immediately. 

If promises were kept, other good habits would 
be cultivated and established at the same time, 
to the importance of which I have already alluded ; 
among the rest, punctuality, the want of which, if 
universal, would unfix all the arrangements of so- 
ciety, and put every thing at loose ends. As it is, 
the stealers of other people's time are an intolera- 
ble nuisance. From the beginning, then, make 
children pay strict regard to promises. 

As another means of cultivating truth and hon- 
esty of character, make them careful not to appro- 
priate, and not to misuse, another's property. The 
first lessons in this department can be given in con- 
nection with toys. The rights of property should 



160 THE SHAMS OF SOCIETY 

be distinctly recognized and strictly maintained in 
the nursery. The child should be trained never to 
use, without leave, what belongs to another, and 
taught to see that it is not honest to do so. There 
is not half as much effected as might be, in the de- 
partment of morals, if things were always called 
by their right names, if every act received its true 
denomination. Sometimes an unscrupulous pupil 
having lost her own book, has taken from my desk 
a new one, not yet given out, and used it without 
my knowledge until it was no longer fit for sale ; 
thus robbing me of its price, just as much as if 
she had taken the money it cost from my pocket ; 
and I have told her that she was guilty of stealing. 
I have often been amazed, too, at finding my own 
books defaced, and scribbled over by wanton girls. 

There is a wide difference between not meaning, 
and meaning not to do so and so. The people are 
very rare who mean never to injure the property 
of another ; and yet every child might be trained, 
I think to a course, in this respect, which common 
decency and common honesty alike require. 

I heard a story once that interested me very 
much, of a little child, who was found to be in the 
habit of abstracting and secreting lumps of sugar 
from the sugar-bowl. For punishment, she was 
placed in a room by herself for two or three days, 
during which, good meals were sent in to her, and 
she was permitted to have some occupation; but 






ET AL. VEESUS TEUTH. 161 

she was cut off from all communication with the 
family. The parents who were very tender-heart- 
ed, showed no anger towards her, but only grief and 
sadness. This, probably, was a severer season of 
trial to them, than even to her; but they endured it 
for her sake, and had their reward. After the 
child's release, the sugar-bowl was placed in her 
keeping. For some time, without her knowledge, 
the lumps were counted, but she was never known 
to take another, and became remarkable for truth 
of character. But its moral basis might have been 
gradually undermined, had this little offence been 
overlooked. 

I grieve to say, that judging from results in the 
majority of young people I have had to deal with, 
parents, generally are remiss in the inculcation, as 
veiy many are in the practice, of nice moral princi- 
ple. Of course, there are noble exceptions. 

A child is particularly unfortunate in regard to 
whom undue indulgence in one parent, is opposed 
by correspondent severity in the other ; and that 
mother who encourages the child to deceive the 
father, or countenances him in doing what the 
father disapproves ; or that father who pursues a 
similar course, in regard to the mother, is, in my 
opinion, a guilty criminal. A child might as 
well be in the hands of Satan. Truth is absolute- 
ly incompatible with any but the most bold and 
open rebellion against parental authority. 



1G2 THE SHAMS OF SOCIETY 

A tendency to make false excuses is a fruitful 
source of untruth, that should be carefully guard- 
ed against, in children and in adults. It is a habit 
so easily formed, that, even a conscientious person, 
who means always to be true, may feel her cheek 
tingle, occasionally, at finding that a lie in this form 
has escaped her lips. If the excuses made by chil- 
dren are sifted ; if their attention is often called to 
them, and they are made to see how false they are, 
and that this, like every other form of lying, is 
sinful and odious, they may be trained to a care- 
ful, conscientious avoidance of it. 

A little girl whom I knew being asked by her 
mother why she took her bonnet off at church, re- 
plied, " to make myself cooler." Afterward she 
voluntarily told her mother, that was only one rea- 
son ; and another was, that she thought she should 
look better without it. She felt her conscience 
burdened until she had stated the case exactly. I 
have already spoken of the manifold modes of de- 
ceit universal in schools. I am told that in col- 
leges these prevail to a fearful degree ; and that a 
young man who has money in his pocket, and 
meanness in his heart, can go through the whole 
four years without writing a theme, or committing 
a lesson in the languages, or in mathematics. I 
have heard described contrivances for passing well 
a public examination without any scholarship, 
which bordered upon the arts of jugglery. It is 



ET AL. VERSUS TRUTH. 163 

possible that some young men fall into these dis- 
graceful ways, in thoughtless unconsciousness of 
their disgraceful nature, without permanent loss of 
integrity ; but there is no doubt that, on the whole, 
they do great injury, and are among the causes that 
help to keep the standard of truth and honesty 
low in the community. 

In my opinion, to the pulpit attaches a huge 
share of responsibility on the same account. There 
is but one denomination, so far as I know, whose 
clergy are not afraid to preach what is termed 
morality — what, in fact, our Saviour taught — so 
as to give it any prominence in their teachings. 
If the record of our Saviour's sermon on the 
Mount had been mislaid, and it were to appear now 
for the first time, without the sanction of his blessed 
name, I think it would be regarded by a large 
majority of the clergy and their congregations, as 
a " cold moral discourse." 

I once asked a clergyman why the Apostles 
were made the universal models of religious teach- 
ing, instead of Christ. He admitted the fact, but 
did not attempt an explanation. I once heard the 
Kev. Henry Ward Beecher — whom may God bless, 
as a true and genuine apostle of true religion — 
23 reach a sermon in vindication of morality ! He 
was aware that it had fallen into a certain sort of 
disrepute. This has arisen from the great fear lest 
morality should be mistaken for religion, and men 



164 THE SHAMS OF SOCIETY 

should suppose that justice, mercy, truth, etc., were 
conditions of salvation. "We do not discover any 
such fear in our Saviour — any such disposition to. 
separate morality from religion. See his address 
on the judgment scene that he arrays before the 
imagination of his hearers ; and his utterances 
everywhere. It is a separation which has done 
infinite harm. 

Religion, in its true sense, is fealty to God ; and 
this is best shown by the keeping of bis laws. To 
disparage truth, justice, mercy, love, is to disparage 
the attributes of God. The more one fits himself 
to practice these virtues ; the more, so far, does he 
become like God. All mankind can cultivate and 
practice these ; all cannot attain to a high degree 
of spiritual communion with God. This is the 
privilege of an exalted spiritual nature. All should 
seek it — all should pray — not on God's account, 
but their own ; not because prayers and religious 
observances are more acceptable to him than the 
service of the heart and life, for this he has ex- 
pressly denied. And yet men think that in pray- 
ing they " glorify God." At best, how low is 
man's conception of Deity ; how poor and imperfect 
his utterances when he attempts to address Him ! 

There is an interesting legend, full of significance, 
of Saint Christopher, a Syrian soldier, who, on be- 
ing converted from heathenism, begged that, since 
he never could become an adept at prayer, he 



ET AL. VERSUS TRUTH. 165 

might have some active service appointed him ; 
and was well pleased to take his station by a river, 
across which there was constant transit, and spend 
his days in carrying over it, upon his shoulders, 
those who were too small, or too feeble, to ford it 
themselves. Think you he would have rendered so 
acceptable a service to his master by keeping 
always, or chiefly, on his knees before him ? 

If what is termed, often in a disparaging tone, 
morality, had the same place and the same estima- 
tion, in the teaching of the religious guides of the 
people, that was given to it in the lessons that fell 
from the lips of Jesus, fewer men and fewer women 
would dare to enrol themselves, publicly, in the 
lists of his followers, who content themselves with 
calling upon his name, while they omit to do the 
things that he says. Fewer men who make their 
families wretched by a tyrannous exercise of power ; 
fewer who drive hard bargains with the poor labor- 
ing man ; fewer who are dishonest in their dealings 
and untrue to their word ; fewer who love money 
more than they love their kind — nay, more than they 
love their own souls ; fewer women whose lives 
are those of mere worldlings ; fewer whose tem- 
pers are malignant ; fewer who are prone " to take 
up a report against their neighbor ;" fewer who 
are given to petty deceits and harsh judgments; 
fewer who are utterly self-indulgent, would assume 
the badge, considering themselves fully entitled to 



166 THE SHAMS OF SOCIETY 

do so, of soldiers of the cross ; and heirs of the king- 
dom of Heaven. 

I am inclined to think that the wholesale, stereo- 
typed confessions of sins, common both in public 
worship and in private devotions, is adverse to 
truth of character. Because David was loud and 
earnest in self-denunciation, and Paul called him- 
self " the chief of sinners," Christians seem to feel 
themselves bound to adopt a similar style of ex- 
pression. The sins of David being those of a semi- 
barbarian, whose lusts led him to the commission 
of cruelty, were such as could not fail to overwhelm 
him with a sense of bitter shame and remorse, 
whenever the better part of his nature, really 
spiritual and exalted, was predominant. 

Paul was a persecutor of a vehement nature, 
whose fanatical zeal probably transformed him, for 
the time being, into a demon ; and when, after his 
conversion, he contrasted the spirit which he had 
been manifesting, with that inculcated by the Gos- 
pel of Christ, he may really have regarded himself 
as the chief of sinners. 

But it is probably true of a very large propor- 
tion of those who are most ready to adopt the self- 
accusing style of the great Apostle, that they would 
be extremely sensitive at having any particular sin 
laid to their charge. In everything connected with 
religious rites and observances there should be per- 
fect sincerity ; and it would surely be better to omit 



ET AL. VERSUS TRUTH. 167 

all confession, than to make it as a matter of form, 
or without a distinct consciousness of special sins. 

As David confesses and deplores his transgres- 
sions ; so, also, does he speak, with satisfaction, of 
his right-doing ; and he manifests his sincerity just 
as much in the one case, as in the other. It is not 
easy to see why, as one must suffer in proportion 
to his wrong-doing, he should not be made happy 
by the consciousness of right-doing. The expres- 
sion, "All our righteousnesses are as filthy rags," is 
an Orientalism — how literally to be interpreted one 
may judge by reading the 18th Psalm, in which 
David gives thanks, after one of his deliverances 
from Saul, and represents God's interposition in his 
behalf on that occasion, under the following images : 
" He bowed the heavens also, and came down, and 
darkness was under his feet. And he rode upon a 
cherub, and did fly ; yea, he did fly on the wings of 
the wind. At the brightness that was before him 
his thick clouds passed, hail-stones and coals of 
fire. The Lord also thundered in the heavens, and 
the Highest gave his voice : hail-stones and coals of 
fire. Yea, he sent out his arrows and scattered 
them, and he shot out lightnings and discomfited 
them. Then the channels of the waters were seen, 
and the foundations of the earth were discovered ; 
at thy rebuke, Lord ; at the blast of the breath 
of thy nostrils." 

We are a race of people so entirely different from 



168 THE SHAMS OF SOCIETY 

the Orientals in temperament, that their utter- 
ances cannot have the same meaning in our mouths 
as in theirs. "When we adopt them in our solemn 
services, we use them, as they never did, literally. 
The Apostle says that " all our righteousnesses are 
as filthy rags." That acts of love, of mercy, of 
justice — acts, in the doing of which we fulfil God's 
requirements, and conform ourselves to the example 
of Jesus — are as filthy rags, is true only in the same 
sense in which it is true that " the heavens are not 
clean in God's pure sight." 

The cause of true godliness is not advanced, but 
much hindered, as I believe, by habits of indis- 
criminate confession, and extravagant self-denun- 
ciation. While no true follower of the great 
Master would ever use the offensive boast of the 
Pharisee, or fail to utter the prayer of the Publi- 
can ; a good man must be as conscious, that out of 
the good treasure of his heart proceedeth good 
things — as an evil man that out of the evil treas- 
ure of his heart proceedeth evil things. It is, 
nevertheless, true, at the same time, that the best 
men have the most real humility ; because the 
higher they rise in the scale of excellence, the 
higher their standard becomes, and the less satis- 
fied they are with their own spiritual attainments. 

Two of the best men I ever knew, when on their 
death-beds, expressed themselves to the same effect ; 
and in terms the "soberness" and sincerity of 



ET AL. VERSUS TRUTH. 169 

which, I have always admired. They said that, in 
so far as they were conscious of having done their 
duty, it was a great comfort to them ; and for the 
rest, they trusted in the mercy of God. 

Anything hollow, and partaking of the nature of 
a sham, connected with solemn religious observ- 
ances, is offensive and wicked in a heinous degree, 
but is it uncommon? I sometimes think that 
there is still much of heathenism in man's concep- 
tion of deity, and in the mode of worship with 
which they think they " honor" him. Many 
years ago, a meeting, held in one of our towns by 
the American Board of Commissioners, was closed* 
as usual, I suppose, by the communion service. 
As the time came for this, it was announced some- 
what pompously from the pulpit ; that it would 
now be administered, and that the elements would 
be carried around by Governor So and so, Ex-Gov- 
ernor So and so, Judge So and so, etc. Not a name 
was mentioned, I think, that had not some title 
appended to it — why mentioned at all, no one 
could see ; but it does not seem uncharitable to 
infer a belief on the part of the presiding clergy- 
man, that the master of the feast was greatly hon- 
ored by having such waiters at his table. This, 
however, was simply ridiculous and disgusting. 
There seems to be absolute impiety in the circum- 
stances under which solemn vows are sometimes 
made. I was once present at a ceremony of 
S 



179 THE SHAMS OF SOCIETY 

baptism, when a godfather and godmother, pro- 
vided for the occasion, took the customary vows 
to perform certain duties towards the children 
then baptized, who were to depart with their 
parents the next day to a distant part of the coun- 
try, and whom, in all probability, the god-parents 
would never see again. They were aware of 
all these circumstances ; and so, also, was the offi- 
ciating clergyman. Who would dare to use such 
mummery in any transaction with a fellow-man ? 
Could such a solemn farce be enacted in a Xew 
England village, if proper regard were paid by 
parents and religious teachers to the inculcation of 
truth in conduct ? Are occurrences of this nature 
infrequent, and do they not help to make a com- 
munity dishonest ? 

Probably not a week passes in which the cere- 
mony of baptism is not performed in many churches 
with great display; at which those assist, who 
solemnly promise, in the name of the children 
presented for this rite, to renounce the pomps and 
vanities of the world ; renounce the very things 
sought to give prominence and importance to the 
occasion. Such things should not be in Christian 
temples, but familiarity with them seems to blind 
pastors as well as people to their real character. 
Probably no meaning or significance, whatever, is 
attached to the promise ; it is used as a mere form 
cf words. 



ET AL. VERSUS TRUTH. 171 

A good deal of doubt may well exist as to the 
expediency of college prayers as now, and I be- 
lieve always, instituted ; which, in their practical 
effect, as I have often been assured, serve, chiefly, 
as a " roll-call." Especially is this the case in the 
winter season, when the student rushes, shivering, 
in the darkness of the early morning, from his 
warm bed ; often with his toilet imperfectly, be- 
cause very hastily, made, to a cold room, where he 
remains shivering; while he listens, probably, only 
for the amen which shall relieve him from his 
uncomfortable condition. A reveille, with beat 
of drums, or other signal, would surely be better 
at that hour of the day ; and prayers might be had 
later, under circumstances of comfort and conveni- 
ence that would promote, rather than prevent, their 
proper effect. A religious observance of any sort, 
should be made to retain its character as strictly as 
possible ; and care should be taken not to render it 
repulsive by any accompanying circumstances. 

I think that even the marriage contract might 
be worded more carefully than it is. How can 
one promise to " love and honor," as if love were 
voluntary, and honor could be rendered whether 
deserved or not ? And what propriety is there in 
a woman promising absolute, unconditional obe- 
dience to mortal man, when she cannot be sure 
that such obedience may not involve, in some way 
and upon some occasion, the violation of her con- 



172 • THE SHAMS OF SOCIETY 

science, and the infliction of misery and wrong 
upon her family. Yet this promise, of such doubt- 
ful performance, even in possibility, is made with 
great solemnity. 

I have not, of course, the presumption to sug- 
gest a new form, but I believe that when Christian 
communities are so much farther advanced as to 
adopt a higher standard of truth, one infinitely 
better will be found. At present, the best that I 
know is that used by the Quakers. It is as fol- 
lows : "In the presence of the Lord and this 
assembly, I take to be my husband, prom- 
ising, with divine assistance, to be unto him a 
loving, and faithful wife, until deatli shall separate 
us." The husband makes precisely the same vow. 

The question often arises, how far it is right and 
proper to use, or to dispense with, those conven- 
tional phrases and conventional manners that 
express a great deal and mean nothing; and to 
which there is often no correspondence in feeling ; 
in other words, how to preserve sincerity, and avoid 
rudeness. One thing is certain ; that those who, 
on the score of being true, assume the liberty of 
expressing freely their dislikes and disapprovals or 
indifference, and indulge freely in criticisms, are 
never willing that on the same, or any other score, 
the same liberty should be taken with them. So, 
instead of promoting the system they advocate, 
they only help to prove that it is utterly inex- 



ET AL. VERSUS TRUTH. 173 

pedient; as well as impracticable. If they are 
tolerated at all, it is only on account of some 
striking excellences in themselves, which, how- 
ever, do not secure to them half the influence 
they might, under other circumstances, exert for 
the good of those with whom they are associated. 
This free criticism and open censure awaken resist- 
ance, arouse all the worst parts of one's nature. 
It is only the still, small voice that comes from 
example which has the accent of persuasion. As 
the body is held sacred from the touch of indig- 
nity, so the spirit of man should be safe from smit- 
ing. While, therefore, we ought to avoid, care- 
fully, a flattering, extravagant style of manner and 
expression in our intercourse with our fellows; 
kindness and courtesy should always be preserved. 
This could easily be done without any violation 
of sincerity, if all were truly Christian in char- 
acter and feeling. To express thanks for an 
unwelcome service, pleasure at an unwelcome invi- 
tation, or at the arrival of an unwelcome visitor ; 
to show some degree of complacence in the society 
of the dull and distasteful, without a sacrifice of 
truth, is only possible in the case of a few who 
love their neighbors as themselves; who can be 
truly glad of what gives pleasure to others, even 
at their own cost ; and in whom the errors, failings, 
and littlenesses of others excite no feeling so 
strong as compassion and a desire to do them good. 



174 THE SHAMS OF SOCIETY, ETC. 

The uncle before alluded to, whose probable seat 
in a party was by the side of the most unattractive 
lady, though a man of brilliant social talents, was 
always sure to look after those whom he thought 
others would neglect ; whether in the drawing- 
room, by the way-side, or in life's humble retreats. 

I would inculcate upon the young three rules in 
regard to social intercourse, as follows : 

First — Never express or manifest more pleasure 
or more liking than you really feel, in order that 
your own love of approbation may be gratified, 
your own popularity promoted. 

Second — Let there be no want of correspond- 
ence between your manners to others ; and your ut- 
terance in regard to them. 

Third — Practice a true Christian courtesy to all 
men, under all circumstances. 



CHAPTER XIV. 



DAYS OF MOURNING. 



You may be surprised to see a chapter with this 
title. But must not such days surely come to 
every human creature whose existence is "bound" 
up ia the same " bundle of life" with that of other 
mortal beings ? And is there not a right and a 
wrong, a wise and a foolish, a rational and an irra- 
tional, way of spending them ? Has not grief, like 
everything else, its uses and its abuses ? And do 
not these depend upon the spirit with which it is 
received, and the manner in which it is enter- 
tained ? 

I do not suppose that there are many rebellious 
mourners — I should hardly know what counsel to 
give to such a class. The phrase implies a con- 
dition of mind, when reason, if not actually de- 
throned, is so entirely set aside, that it is incapable of 
argument. But there is often a very imperfect state 
of submission — and grief from the loss of friends, 
instead of arousing the sufferer, as it should do, to 
abetter, a more active performance of duty, is made 
an excuse for neglect of it, a plea for selfishness 



176 DAYS OF MOURNING. 

and indolence. Its guise is as varied as are the 
phases of human character. In some it is meek 
and gentle, patient and full of tenderness, quiet, 
unobtrusive, uncomplaining. In others it is arro- 
gant and exacting — a perpetual challenger of sym- 
pathy, and a claimant for especial consideration, as 
for one upon whom is laid a burden greater than 
was ever borne before, or who has a rare capacity 
for suffering. With some, it is silent, reserved, 
forbidding, irresponsive ; with others it is genial, 
tender, kindly, grateful for sympathy. To some 
it is a heart-opener ; to others, a shutter up of the 
heart. In some cases it pours forth its lamen- 
tations as if, in the loss of one blessing, all that 
remained were entirely forgotten ; in others, it ut- 
ters, in touching tremulous accents, its acknowledg- 
ment of mercies still vouchsafed. 

To some it is always a demon, a spirit of evil in- 
fluence, and dreaded aspect ; to others, it becomes 
a dear, cherished companion, with whom they hold 
sweet and hallowed converse ; a high and holy com- 
munion. To some it brings fetters and clogs, to 
others freedom and inspiration. Some it holds to 
the earth, others it lifts towards the skies. In com- 
panionship with it, some hear a perpetual funeral 
march, while others catch the sound of holy an- 
thems ; and their ears are not insensible to the music 
of nature, or to a child's accents of joy. 

Whoever, that has a living heart and a living 



DAYS OF MOUENING. 177 

soul, loses a friend in any one of the nearest rela- 
tions in life, goes through an experience which 
reveals to him much that he never knew before, 
both within and without himself. In his extremity 
he is in a peculiar manner brought, as it were, 
face to face with himself, and with his Maker. He 
is in a wilderness, wrestling with a terrible un- 
known power ; and fortunate, when he lays his head 
to rest on a pillow of stone, if he can see in his 
dreams, a ladder reaching to heaven, with angels 
ascending and descending. His spirit withdraws it- 
self into retirement, and is busy with questionings 
that never stirred it before. His condition is in some 
essential respects new and strange. There is a new 
earth where the lost one is not ; a new heaven 
where he is. His own existence is changed by 
being abridged of a portion of itself, of that which 
made its life. He must learn to know this new 
state of things, and to. adapt himself to these 
changes. He is, in some sort, new to himself. He 
finds heights and depths in his own nature never 
before revealed to him. He is placed in new rela- 
tions both with the past and with the future ; he 
has a more intimate and interesting communion 
even with outward things. This world's hold 
upon him is loosened ; and that part of his being 
which makes him kindred with the heavens, asserts 
its predominance. His soul expands ; life's bound- 
ary is enlarged from the narrow circle that before 
S* 



178 DAYS OF MOURNING. 

confined it, to one extending into infinity. He has 
been upon the very confines of earth and time, and 
had a glimpse into the eternal heavens. Life is 
divested of all its commonness ; it has no more its 
every-day aspect ; it presents itself on its mysterious, 
incomprehensible side, and is felt, chiefly, through 
its affinities with the spiritual and invisible. 

Suffering is a badge of dignity — while, at the 
same time, it is the one universal bond, " the elec- 
tric chain" of human brotherhood. It should not, 
therefore, sever one from his kind. That, certainly, 
is not its natural or legitimate office — its proper 
ultimate effect. It is true that the bowed soul 
cannot always uplift itself at once ; that its con- 
dition for a time may be like that of an unmasted 
vessel which cannot be trimmed. Especially is 
this the case where the stroke is sudden as well as 
violent ; so that for the time both mind and body 
are weakened by it. It is also true that grief 
makes withdrawal from general society imperative 
for a time. The stricken soul cannot bear the 
noise, observances, and bustle of the world, any 
more than the invalid can dispense, in the sick room, 
with quiet and stillness, and all restraint imposed 
by the presence of other than his ordinary attend- 
ants. There is something sacred in grief which 
demands a sanctuary — nay, which makes one of 
the mourner's dwelling, and places one about him 
wherever he may be. And still, it is not in its 



DATS OF MOURNING. 179 

proper character, selfish ; it is not deaf to the voice 
of sympathy or the cry of distress. It does not 
refuse the offices of friendship, nor neglect the 
claims of humanity. Still less is it indifferent to 
the calls of duty. When it is finest, it touches the 
heart to its finest issues ; and is, in no sense, an ob- 
struction. It is not very uncommon, since there 
are found people unreasonable, under all circum- 
stances, to hear a bereaved woman bewailing her- 
self as if life had nothing left for her ; and even ex- 
pressing that conviction when one of her treasures 
is taken. This always makes me shudder inwardly, 
though I have no clear belief in what are called, 
technically, judgments. If any one of those re- 
maining, were to be subsequently taken from her, 
the same strain of lamentation would be repeated. 
Though she be the converse of a Niobe, I almost 
listen for the whirring of the next arrow. 

Some natures, indeed, seek to find relief from 
the pressure of a heavy affiiection, in intense 
activity ; and in living, as much as possible, 
out of themselves, and for others. This is 
true, heavenly wisdom. I knew a noble woman 
who devoted herself, some two or three years, to 
her husband, during a period when he lost his 
reason, partially recovered it, was smitten with 
paralysis, until he was gradually shorn of all his 
powers, and died after six weeks of unconscious- 
ness. The Apostle's list of trials and endurances 



180 DAYS OF MOURNING. 

scarcely contains a more formidable enumeration 
than that which made up the record of her daily 
life. There was first the story of boundless wealth 
to be listened to, and plans and proposals arising 
from a full belief in it, to be thwarted. There 
were the excitement and restlessness, attending,' 
this belief, to be managed, and restrained, if pos- 
sible. Sleep departed very nearly from the sufferer ; 
and whole nights were sometimes spent in walking 
with him. Then came the reaction — the opposite 
state of fearful depression — almost despair. There 
were painful separations, and painful reunions, 
under circumstances of difficulty and uncertainty. 
Day after day was spent for months in reading 
aloud on subjects interesting only to the poor suf- 
ferer, until it became quite a severe physical labor. 
There were journeys accomplished with difficulty, 
in the course of which emergencies occurred that 
taxed all the ingenuity, all the moral courage, and 
all the generous self-devotion of this incomparable 
nurse and attendant. Then came, at last, a great 
demand upon her physical strength, to supply its 
failure in him. She had long been eyes and staff 
to him, and she was to be also hands and feet, bone 
and muscle. Never was a more difficult service — 
never one more nobly, courageously, patiently, ten- 
derly performed. 

At length she perceived him sinking into a state 
of unconsciousness, from which she felt he would 



DATS OF MOUENING. 1S1 

never awake, and called loudly for recognition two 
or three times, but in vain. Then she exclaimed, 
in agony: " Oh, husband, do you love me?" " Im- 
mensely," was the reply, uttered with great em- 
phasis. This was his last word, and her blessed 
reward. For six long weeks after this she kept 
her holy, unremitting watch by that couch of liv- 
ing death. 

Think you that such a woman as this gave her- 
self up to the selfish indulgence of her grief? Af- 
ter the last duties were paid to him for whom 
alone, almost, she had necessarily lived, for a con- 
siderable period, she said, " Now I can devote 
myself to my children and the poor " This was 
the annunciation of her plan of life ; and hers be- 
came " The Mother House" of the village where 
she dwelt. 

But who has not witnessed the spectacle of some 
widow, although she had manifested no remarka- 
ble conjugal devotion while her husband lived, 
bewailing her condition, as if no such burden of 
sorrow was ever laid upon another ; and demeaning 
herself, as if it exempted, while it disqualified her, 
for all the ordinary duties of life. 

It is a strange sentiment, entertained, not unfre- 
quently, even by good, well-principled people, that 
the best tribute to a departed friend consists in 
gloomy, selfish isolation ; in a scrupulous with- 
drawal from all life's ordinary intercourse — from 



182 DAYS OF MOURNING. 

its courtesies and humanities ; in a fixidity of re- 
membrance that shall absorb the whole soul, mak- 
ing it inattentive to everything else ; and in grief 
most carefully and pertinaciously cherished. Is it 
not a far better and more worthy tribute, to make 
the sad event of temporary separation a starting- 
point from which to run a nobler race in the path 
of duty — to seek more earnestly for that higher 
life which will bring the mourner into better cor- 
respondence with the departed soul in its new 
sphere of advancement ? 

With this idea of propriety in weeds, there often 
mingles much that is purely conventional, and 
therefore very displeasing, not to use a harsher 
term. At one period of my life, two ladies who 
lived in my vicinity, and were near neighbors to 
each other, were made widows about the same 
time. After a proper interval, I called upon one 
of them, whom I knew. The other, whose condi- 
tion was particularly trying and friendless, had a 
child very ill at the time. I asked my acquaint- 
ance how it was ; and she replied, with a look 
evidently intended to convey the impossibility of 
her meddling with other people's sorrows when 
her own pressed so heavily, " I don't know any- 
thing about it." Now, I think that this woman's 
loss, though it may have been felt severely at 
some points, had never touched her heart. 

Another incident, that occurred under my ob- 



L>AYS OF MOURNING. 183 

servation, was the following : An aged lady, on the 
verge of eighty years, residing in New England, 
made a journey to a town in the distant West, 
where lived the daughter of a much-loved cousin 
and intimate friend, long since dead, whom, for 
her mother's sake, she wished particularly to see. 
But the lady, who knew of her presence in the 
place, could not call upon her, and did not, because 
her husband had died six months before ! It seems 
to me a degradation to a man's memory to have 
such a contemptible triviality considered as an ap- 
propriate tribute to it. To have required any- 
thing of a corresponding nature, out of respect to 
him, during his life, would have proved him a low- 
minded man. 

Genuine grief needs to have no insignia devised 
for it — no modus operandi prescribed. It is like the 
genuine wine, that needs no bush. Like every- 
thing else that is real, it acts in and of itself, and 
finds its own best modes of manifestation. 

Conventional mourning was no doubt originally 
contrived for the purpose of substituting proprie- 
ties and decorums in place of the natural indica- 
tions of sorrow, where that did not really exist 
Apropos to a lady I heard of, who, without any 
reserve, gave as a reason for transferring herself, 
in the winter, from a country home to a crowded 
hotel in the city, that she wanted society, and, 
being " in black," could not pay visits. 



184 DAYS OF MOURNING. 

It is sad, and almost humiliating, that the world 
should so establish jurisdiction over life's holy 
of holies, and claim a share in the disposition of 
that which is, or ought to be, within the veil. And 
yet, so powerful is the influence of custom, that 
conventional mourning is often used to give expres- 
sion to that which is real. 

Many, after a severe affliction, shut themselves 
up — not merely according to a conventional rule, 
but from the great effort necessary to go forth, 
even for a solitary walk or drive. But this is not 
right ; for sorrow is very unfavorable to health, on 
which, therefore, particular care should be bestowed. 
The effort should be made ; and, like all efforts in 
a good direction, will have its reward. For, besides 
its benefit, as a sanitary measure ; next to religious 
faith and hope, and the sympathy of friends, 
there is nothing more grateful, more soothing, 
more elevating, to the sorrowing heart, than 
communion with our mother nature. There are 
moods, indeed, to which her companionship is 
better suited than that even of one's nearest and 
dearest. 

Here I am reminded to warn you, that a period 
of partial skepticism is not an improbable con- 
sequence of a first severe bereavement. It is not 
universal, and it may not be frequent; but it is 
probably much more so than may be supposed ; 
because there is a great absence of real freedom of. 



DAYS OF MOURNING. 185 

communication between man and man, and any 
unusual individual experience is almost sure to be 
concealed. 

When mankind shall have become good enough, 
when they shall be fully infused with the spirit of 
human brotherhood, so that perfect love will cast 
out fear ; then, no doubt, great benefit will be 
derived from mutual confidences ; and persons, in 
circumstances of singular perplexity and trial, 
will cease to be dismayed with the idea that their 
case is entirely exceptional. Death is such a pal- 
pable event, all its accessories are so impressive to 
the senses — that the grave seems the natural and 
sure terminus of the race of man — beyond which 
all is vagueness, darkness, nothingness. A butter- 
fly may come forth from a grub — but how can a 
living soul be developed from these poor remains. 
Is not the material, the only instrument of the 
spiritual ? If other creatures, exhibiting more or 
less of intelligence, die forever, why not man ? Of 
such sort are the questions perpetually arising. 
All this may have partly to do with the reaction 
that comes from the first excitement of violent 
grief, by which, for a little time, the sufferer is 
greatly sustained. 

One feels that the foundations of his faith are 
giving way, and is dismayed at the discovery. 
If he be of a patient spirit, he sets himself stead- 
fastly, if possible, to lay them over again by all the 



186 DAYS OF MOURNING. 

means in his power; and perchance they may 
become more stable than ever. It is for this class, 
and many others under the various distressing 
exigencies of human life — that the touching peti- 
tion, " Lord I believe — help thou mine unbelief," 
was put on record. If it is fervently uttered in 
word and in effort — the unbelief will surely be 
helped. 

On the subject of a mourning dress, I have little 
to say. It seems to me, I confess, that a true in- 
stinct must have led to its adoption, but I may be 
mistaken. It may be owing to custom, only, that 
I regard it as fitting ; and that I could not dispense 
with it, in my own case, without missing its shel- 
ter and protection. Like every other usage it is 
liable to abuse — in proof of which, it is only neces- 
sary to hear a clerk, behind the counter of a shop 
where mourning goods, onty, are sold, recom- 
mending different " styles" — and different shades 
of color, to different ladies, according to a gradu- 
ated scale, supposed to correspond in its descent 
to the gradual abbreviations in the prescribed period 
of mourning, and the waning of sorrow with 
the lapse of time ; or to hear an exclamation not 
unfrequently made. " Oh dear, I shall never get 
rid of my black dress ! Just as I am going to lay 
it aside, some one else dies. I do wish it was not 
the custom to wear mourning !" 



CHAPTER XV. 



PREJUDICE AND HAESH JUDGMENTS. 

There are two classes of people — radicals and 
conservatives — or enthusiasts and their opposites, 
who, holding each other in mutual contempt, are, 
nevertheless, in the present state of society, essen- 
tial to one another, and form an important part of 
the system of checks and balances by which God's 
world is kept in harmonious operation, and man's 
world is .saved from tumbling to pieces. 

The mission of the enthusiast I conceive to be, 
that of going beyond the proper natural line of 
advancement in the continual progression of society, 
in order to bring others up to it, if possible ; while, 
but for this necessity — this clog, they would be in 
danger of irregular, lightning-like modes of pro- 
ceeding, which would defeat the very ends they 
wished to secure. Yet, I confess that my sympa- 
thies are much more with enthusiasts, than with 
their antagonists. 

It is difficult to bring one's mind to the neces- 
sity of so slow a progress as the world is making. 
It is difficult to forgive the narrowness, almost 



188 PREJUDICE AND HARSH JUDGMENTS. 

universally characteristic of the human mind in all 
ages, which makes it instinctively reject every 
novelty in theory, practice, or opinion, whether 
important or insignificant in its influence, whether 
in regard to things trifling, or things of moment, 
merely because it is new. Puny man sits by the 
shore of the ocean of knowledge and says to its 
waves : " Thus far shalt thou go, and no farther," 
until he finds that truth is as mighty in its advance, 
and as irresistible, as the waves of the sea at high 
tide ; while, unlike them, it has no assignable 
limit. 

In all probability, it was this spirit of resist- 
ance that confined Galileo in a prison, under the 
surveillance of the Inquisition, for asserting the 
revolution of the earth, the before supposed sta- 
tionary centre of our system, around the sun ; 
for, did not that luminary stand still, in oppo- 
sition to its customary habits, on the day when 
Joshua fought with the Gibeonites ; and did it not 
move, every day, from east to west, in the face 
and eyes of men ? It was this spirit that raised 
such an opposition in the minds of his brother 
physicians, to Harvey's wonderful discovery of the 
circulation of the blood, as subjected him to hatred 
and persecution. Ifc was this that made them op- 
pose the adoption of that God-revealed remedy for 
a dreadful disease, vaccination. How could such 
a remedy exist, if they had never known it ? Some 






PREJUDICE AND HARSH JUDGMENTS. 189 

" religious " people maintained that, admitting its 
efficacy, it would be an impious interference with 
God's Providence to adopt it. Why the same ob- 
jections did not apply to all remedies for diseases 
cannot be guessed. Human inconsistencies being 
out of all reason, are not susceptible of explana- 
tion. 

There is still a good deal ot bigotry in the world, 
hardly less fantastical than that of the Scottish 
clergyman who, after the introduction of "fan- 
ners " for winnowing grain, refused the holy com- 
munion to those of his parishioners who thus irrev- 
erently raised "the devil's wind." 

Men remind one of cows in a pasture, who will not 
meddle with trees they are accustomed to see ; but 
if a new one is planted within their beat, they will 
tear it in pieces. Another remedy for human dis- 
ease, viz., animal magnetism, which has been more 
or less known, probably, in all ages, and is now 
pressing itself upon the notice of men, so that, in 
time, its universal adoption will become inevitable, 
encounters, in the medical faculty, and in men 
generally, the same prejudice of which I have 
already spoken. It is in vain to quote from actual 
observation and knowledge, instances of its remark- 
able effects. It is in vain to say, " why not, at least, 
investigate the subject according to the Apostle's 
rule " — why not " prove " it — it may cure you — 
it certainly will do you no harm." Any unlicensed 



190 PEEJUDICE AND HARSH JUDGMENTS. 

art of healing is not to be thought of by the edu- 
cated physician ; and as for patients, a large num- 
ber would rather die by rule, than live by that 
which is apparently against it. That quacks and 
impostors have made lying pretences to the pos- 
session of this means of healing, is no proof against 
it. Were this otherwise, the whole science of 
medicine would be liable to condemnation on the 
same ground. It is a real remedy — simpler, safer, 
surer, more agreeable than any other. 

I have been assured that when the custom was 
introduced into this country, from France, of in- 
cluding drawers, as an article in a lady's toilette, 
it met with as great opposition, as did, subsequently, 
the adoption of the Bloomer costume. It was 
pronounced indecent, immodest, et cetera ; and 
probably, never would have prevailed against the 
opposition it excited, if the new garment had been 
an outside one. Now, it is considered essential to 
propriety, as well as comfort. 

There is certainly no intrinsic impropriety in 
what is called the Bloomer costume — and there is 
essential fitness in it, as a dress to be worn in 
taking exercise. We are trammelled by the length 
and weight of our skirts, so that there can bo 
neither lightness and freedom of limb, nor fleetness 
of foot. Less exercise can be taken than if we 
were allowed a proper dress to take it in; and 
what we get, is not nearly as refreshing as it 






PREJUDICE AND HARSH JUDGMENTS. 191 

would be under more favorable circumstances. 
But this loss, and all this inconvenience and disad- 
vantage must be submitted to, on precisely the 
same principle, in obedience to the same law, be- 
fore alluded to, which reigns in the pasture, viz.: 
that things must remain in statu quo. It was said 
by a witty gentleman, that if women could per- 
suade men to change dresses with them, they could, 
at once, have whatever rights they might choose 
to claim. 

How many a lady, who would disdain to take 
the hand of an honest laborer, is content to trail 
her skirts so that they wipe up the secretions of 
his mouth, and all the filth of the pavement. Is 
there essential refinement in such a dress, so worn, 
and essential vulgarity in short skirts with panta- 
lettes ? I should prefer long skirts in the drawing 
room, and short skirts in the street. The best 
refinement is found in conjunction with the ever- 
lasting fitness of things. 

A friend of mine told me that he once arrived 
in London on Saturday, too late to buy a " beaver ;" 
and ventured out on Sunday with the only cover- 
ing he had for his head, viz., a straw hat. He 
found himself directly followed by a mob of boys, 
hooting, pointing, and shouting " hat, hat;" so that 
he was obliged to return to his lodgings, and shut 
himself up there, the remainder of the day. The hue 
and cry that is often raised by grown-up children 



192 PREJUDICE AND HARSH JUDGMENTS. 

in a community against what is contrary to estab- 
lished conventionalism, is equally senseless and 
absurd. 

It is proper to pay a certain deference to custom 
and prejudice, when no important interest or prin- 
ciple is thereby compromised. It is not worth 
while to shock one's fellow-men unnecessarily. It 
is, perhaps, a part of social duty to yield to their 
whims and irrational preferences, when this can be 
done without any sacrifice of right. One must 
keep near to them, en rapport with them, in order 
to do them good — to exercise a due influence upon 
them ; and receive from them, in return. A wide 
departure from their standard of outward life, im- 
mediately becomes a broad interval of separation — 
and a decided non-conformist is apt to be rejected 
from their sympathies altogether. 

But while I would advocate a rational degree of 
outward conformity even to irrational and imper- 
fect standards, I earnestly beseech you never to let 
custom, old belief, prescriptive faith, fetter the op- 
erations of the mind — interfere with freedom of 
thought or freedom of action, when that is required 
by your conscience, and can be exercised in con- 
formity with man's universal right. Believe in a 
habeas animum as well as a habeas corpus. It is far 
more important to have your mind relieved from 
imprisonment, without just cause, than your body. 
In this land of comparative freedom — of the freest 



PREJUDICE AXD HARSH JUDGMENTS. 193 

institutions ever yet enjoyed by a nation — this 
right to the use of one's own intellect, though ad- 
mitted theoretically, is denied practically, as it is 
elsewhere in the world. Whoever ventures openly 
to adopt opinions upon any subject not in accord- 
ance with popular belief — to enter into investiga- 
tions upon such as have been hitherto supposed be- 
yond the sphere of man, or to have recourse to 
agencies not hitherto recognized, is, like the great 
Enlightener, " despised and rejected of men." Be 
courageous, and keep your minds open for the re- 
ception of new truths. Be not afraid of investiga- 
tion. Such a fear is inconsistent with a real belief 
in the might of truth ; and unworthy of a being to 
whom faculties are given commensurate with the 
broadest fields of investigation, such as spread out 
into eternity. 

Obey the Apostle's rule, viz., " Prove all things, 
and hold fast that which is good." Be neither 
credulous nor skeptical. The skeptic has often 
more credulity than the credulous man; but it is in 
a direction towards himself, and away from truth. 

The mind is injured in tone, in quality, and in 
power, by any restraint upon its full and free exer- 
cise ; while society is immensely hindered in its 
true advancement by these invisible fetters. With 
us, material prosperity has threatened to be our 
greatest and highest prosperity ; and I believe the 
serious check it now receives from the present 



194 PREJUDICE AND HARSH JUDGMENTS. 

deadly conflict in which we are engaged, is not a 
calamity, but a blessing. 

What can be more unreasonable than to suppose 
that while such wonderful discoveries, and such ad- 
mirable applications of them, are perpetually made 
in the material world ; such new agencies revealed 
and turned to account as, in their wonder-working, 
seem magical as the lamp of Aladdin, or Fortunato's 
cap, there is to be no corresponding developement 
and discovery in the world of mind. Who can 
believe that there are not subtle psychological, as 
well as material, agencies, which have hitherto es- 
caped discovery ; that the wonderful attractions and 
affinities which bind all material things together 
into one system, of which material man is a part — 
a system in which he lives, and moves, and has his 
material being — have not their counterparts in the 
great moral system of the universe, so that every soul 
is kindred with Divinity, and, therefore, with every 
other soul ; and controlled in its relations by affini- 
ties and aversions, by attractions and repulsions, as 
certain and uniform in their influence ; as the law of 
gravitation, or of action and reaction. 

Man, whose body is made from the earth, is held 
to it by a force that is within itself ; his lungs are 
filled with its atmosphere ; he is fed by what it pro- 
duces ; he is furnished with a loadstone from its 
bowels, which points him ever mysteriously to the 
North Star, so that, in one sense, he shall never be 



PREJUDICE AND HARSH JUDGMENTS. 195 

" without his reckoning ;" while the globe which he 
inhabits is kept in its position by a wonderful 
"balance of power," maintained in the starry 
kingdom. 

Whence is the soul derived ? What gives it its 
true equipoise ? Where finds it its proper atmos- 
phere ? With what should it be supplied for 
nourishment and growth ? How does it discover 
its guiding star ? How may it always know its 
course ? How do souls act and react upon one 
another, and upon the bodies which contain them? 
What relations have they with the unseen world ? 
Do we know all these things ? It is my belief that 
we have scarcely entered upon this field of investi- 
gation. How senseless, then, to write against it, 
" Xo entrance." 

If man, as a material being, is connected by a 
direct, though invisible, line of communication 
with one particular star ; how many such lines may 
there not be to connect the soul with distant 
spheres ? 

Surely, the moral Universe must have as intimate 
relations as the material ; and far more wonderful. 
If it be true, and I quote from a work of high 
authority, " that even a feather falling, lifts the 
earth towards it ; and that a man jumping, kicks 
the earth away," if it be also true, that by every 
utterance he creates a wave that spreads through 
the whole atmospheric ocean ; what may not be 



196 PREJUDICE AND HARSH JUDGMENTS. 

the effect of his words, his acts, his life, or even 
the breathings of his soul, on the world's moral 
atmosphere. What is to be learned of all this 
may be the work of eternity, and shall we refuse 
to study now ? 

I beseech you, keep your minds always ready 
for investigation on all subjects. Be not hasty in 
adopting new theories, new opinions ; but reject 
nothing, simply because it is new. Be neither 
skeptical nor credulous. " Be as little children," 
for so shall ye enter the kingdom of truth, which 
is the kingdom of Heaven. 

" Be as little children." What, precisely, did 
our Saviour intend by these words, for surely it 
concerns us much to know. I suppose, he meant 
to say, " be confiding, be teachable, be docile, be 
eager in inquiry, and hear " gladly" as " the com- 
mon people" heard the great Teacher, those who 
know better than you, the things which they 
teach." It is a fact, full of significance, that it was 
mainly the common people who listened to Jesus. 
Does not this show that human wisdom, human 
learning, have a tendency to disqualify men for re- 
ceiving the "wisdom which cometh from above." 
This will not always be so. It is so, now, because 
the learned are apt to become wise in their own 
conceit, and therefore self-sufficiont and unteachable. 

Beware of self-conceit. A strutting peacock, 
proudly displaying his magnificent tail, is not half 



PREJUDICE AND HARSH JUDGMENTS. 197 

so contemptible as a conceited man, be his pos- 
sessions or attainments what they may. Think of 
a man being akin in self-complacency to a foolish 
bird ! The latter has a right to be " hugely satis- 
fied" with himself, for he cannot get out of, or 
beyond, his plumage ; that is his great distinc- 
tion. But the man's conceit abridges his highest 
right, viz., that of progress, as a rational, immortal 
being. That it makes him ridiculous to his fellow- 
man, is comparatively of small consequence ; it 
condemns him to make of himself, his own best por- 
tion. He lives upon his poor, narrow, miserable 
self; he knows nothing better than himself; he 
has nothing to give that is not part and parcel of 
himself; nothing to say that does not smack of 
himself; nothing to do that has not reference to 
himself; nothing to enjoy that does not, in some 
way, procure his own glorification. His soul is in 
the condition of the grub in the cocoon. His folly 
is that of the worshipper who shuts his eyes to all 
the revelations Grod has made of himself in his 
works ; turns his back upon all the glories of the 
universe ; and bows down to a little misshapen 
image, albeit of wood, brass, or stone. He makes 
an idol of himself. What an idol ! 

In proportion to a man's conceit, is his liability 
to prejudice of every sort. The word from which 
it is derived, as you know, means literally to judge 
beforehand, without examination or proof: whether 



198 PREJUDICE AND HARSH JUDGMENTS. 

the judgment be passed upon men, events, or 
moral truths. But conceit is not the only element 
of prejudice. Self-interest, narrowness, a conserv- 
ative habit of mind, a love of the quietness 
which belongs to a perfectly undisturbed state of 
things — to the statu-quo system, sometimes car- 
ried so far as to create a dread of the interruption 
consequent even upon new thoughts — ill temper, 
and evil passion, all have their share in producing 
it. Of course, I do not mean that all these ele- 
ments will be found in combination in any one 
individual ; but some one or more of them must 
enter into every man's prejudices. 

Prejudice is most wicked, and most hurtful 
when brought to bear upon one's fellow-men. 
" Who art thou that judgest another man's serv- 
ant?" Why does not this rousing question ring 
in our ears perpetually ? Why, if for a time it 
is forgotten, does it not recur to us in tones to 
make us quail, when we are taking, as we are all 
prone to do, this unhallowed liberty ? 

We are apt to judge our fellow-men — not only 
those with whom we are in daily intimate associa- 
tion, but those whom we see only at a distance, 
perchance those, also, whom we never see at all — as 
if we knew them in a way in which it is difficult 
to know ourselves ; as if we could read their 
thoughts, search their hearts, and were acquainted 
with all their ways ; and with the circumstances, past, 



PREJUDICE AND HARSH JUDGMENTS. 199 

present, or anticipated, bearing upon their course 
of conduct. And yet, what one of us is not con- 
scious of a secret inner chamber in his own heart, 
which no one enters ? What one does not feel 
that he is not himself fully, entirely understood by 
those who know him most intimately, and love 
him best ? Who is not aware that testimony in 
regard to traits of character of any given member 
of a family circle, nay, of the same family, pro- 
cured from its different members, will be sure to 
vary in some essential particular, though honestly 
intended to be perfectly true. " God seeth not as 
man seeth," and one man sees differently from an- 
other, because he looks from a different point of 
view, or that his observation is more or less accu- 
rate than another's, his intellectual perception 
more or less acute, his moral perception more or 
less clear and nice. According to his own state 
of mind and soul, one man has a " single" eye; 
another sees darkly, another obscurely, another 
confusedly ; one through a magnifying, another 
through a diminishing glass. 

Lastly, who does not know that his own j udg- 
ment of the same individuals varies with varying 
moods of his own mind, and varying circum- 
stances. How uncertain, how capricious, how liable 
to error, tben, is that human j udgment, we are all 
perpetually pronouncing without any hesitation ; 
without the slightest scruple or misgiving ; without 



200 PREJUDICE AND HAKSII JUDGMENTS. 

heeding the earnest remonstrance of the great 
Master of all. 

The name of the evils which come from unjust 
judgment is legion. One would shrink from the 
task of tracing them out and enumerating them, 
as from the toil of Ixion or Sisyphus. The first 
great injury, as in the case of all evil doing, is to 
the doer. Whatever harm we inflict, in any way, 
upon our neighbor, is a still greater harm done to 
ourselves. This habit of passing unrighteous judg- 
ments impairs truth of character, invalidates the 
law of love, is unfavorable to niceness of moral 
perception, and ministers to self-righteousness. 
Error has no natural association with truth, un- 
kindness with love, or darkness with light; but it 
is natural to imagine ourselves free from the faults 
which we condemn in others ; and to say to our- 
selves, whether consciously or not, in the very 
act of condemnation, " Stand by, for I am holier 
than thou." Yet, strange to say, nothing is more 
common than a criticism upon the very faults and 
infirmities for which the critic is himself remark- 
able. Even a drunkard will bestow it upon his 
intemperate neighbor. 

Prejudice, like all other evils, is perpetually dif- 
fusing itself. That which exists in one mind, be- 
comes the bane of many. Those who are under 
its sway, are eager to have that sway extended. 
They who look with an evil eye upon their fellow- 



PREJUDICE AXD HARSH JUDGMENTS. 201 

men, are desirous that others should see them in 
the same light. I do not mean that all are haters 
of their fellow-men, who commit this sin against 
them ; but they are liable to become so, if they 
indulge in it habitually. I have sometimes been 
amazed at the vehemence and bitterness of criti- 
cism, such as one would suppose could be inspired 
only by personal feeling or experience, passed upon 
one, known only by hearsay. 

In society, these harsh judgments are a fruitful 
source of mischief. There is no place without 
those " birds of the air that carry the matter." 

Like everything evil, they arouse that which is 
evil. It is very hard to forgive an unjust judg- 
ment ; it is very hard not to resent it, not to feel 
at enmity with its author, not to give " eye for 
eye and tooth for tooth." As the class of those 
who impose upon themselves strict moral dis- 
cipline ; who, by ruling their own spirits, make 
themselves greater than he that taketh a city, 
is comparatively small; they who thus "judge 
another " are responsible for an immense amount 
of wrong doing and wrong feeling on the part 
of those whom they so injure, by calling into 
activity that part of their nature that needs to 
be kept in continual subjugation. A sorrowing 
spirit and a great increase of difficulty in the 
hard task of self-conquest, are the least of the 
evils thus produced. 
9* 



202 PREJUDICE AND HARSH JUDGMENTS. 

Many a man's, and many a woman's proper 
influence is interfered with, or prevented entirely, 
by this same cause ; and thus another responsi- 
bility is incurred, of good lost to society. Loss of 
good, loss of harmony, loss of happiness, loss of 
progress, would all enter into a " plea of the case " 
brought by society against this class of offenders/ 
If men were to weigh and fully comprehend their 
great responsibility ; the momentous, ever-during 
consequences of what seem but trifling, insignifi- 
cant words and deeds, they would hardly dare to 
speak or to act ; and yet how rare is hesitation. 
Evil done, and good prevented. Who can measure 
the social space over which, in opposite direc- 
tions, spreads the devastating influence of him who 
has this inscription upon his walls. It is one, 
the second part of which is the inevitable sequence 
of the first. 

The habit of passing unfounded judgments is 
often formed early, through thoughtlessness, or the 
effect of example. Beware of it yourselves, and 
oh, train your children to its careful avoidance. 
Teach them not to pronounce judgments upon 
men or things of whom, or of which, they know 
little or nothing. This will be good for them, 
and for you ; for the danger of not having your 
practice correspond with your preaching, will be 
a restraint upon any tendency of your own in 
this direction. 



PREJUDICE AXD HARSH JUDGMENTS. 203 

You can all recal in your experience, or you will 
have a chance to observe hereafter, perpetual ex- 
amples of this social sin, of a more or less offens- 
ive type. A gentleman, of whom I knew, was 
for a long time the subject of severe criticism, 
because he never gave anything to public chari- 
ties, and repeatedly refused an application for 
money in aid of some worthy object. After a 
lapse of some years, when his previous failure 
in business had been well-nigh forgotten, he 
called together his creditors, and paid every far- 
thing which he owed them, not by a legal, but a 
moral obligation ; for they had given him his dis- 
charge. This act of justice, of moral equity, he 
was enabled to perform by a long course of 
self-denial ; the severest of which probably was 
practised when he refused assistance to others — 
since they who are just, in this wise, can hardly 
fail to be generous. If they love justice better 
than money, they will surely hold mercy far above 
it ; and esteem nothing less, to which it is inferior 
in value. Justice is a higher virtue than gene- 
rosity ; higher in itself ; higher because more diffi- 
cult ; less stimulated, except from within ; less 
aided and encouraged by observation ; less esteem- 
ed by the world. Doubtless, in the very society to 
which this gentleman belonged, men were win- 
ning praise for generosity, who neglected to pay 
their debts. Such, alas, are often found. 



204 PREJUDICE AND HARSH JUDGMENTS. 

A young lady whom I once knew was addressed 
by an excellent man, for whom she had great 
respect, but whom she could not accept as a lover. 
With a delicacy that should characterize every 
woman under similar circumstances, she carefully 
concealed what had passed between them. Sub- 
sequently she had a period of ill-health, and per- 
mitted him, at his earnest request, and upon his 
assurance that he had no expectation of any change 
of feeling on her part, to devote himself to her in 
various ways, testifying a very sincere friendship 
on his part. When she married another, in no 
very long time after, she was quite bitterly accused 
of having flirted with her former friend. 

There is a very common sin, akin to that of 
passing unrighteous judgments, viz., " taking up 
a reproach against one's neighbor." I have already 
spoken of the extreme inaccuracy of human testi- 
mony. If it should be cautiously taken upon all 
subjects whatever; it should be even jealously re- 
ceived, when brought to bear unfavorably upon the 
life or character of any man or woman. I have 
sometimes been greatly surprised to see even good 
people lassoed, as it were, and made to join, at least 
temporarily, the throng of ignorant gossips and 
maligners. 

There is a game which well exemplifies the 
Protean character of any form of words whatever, 
whether common place, pithy with sense, or spiced 



PREJUDICE AND HARSH JUDGMENTS. 205 

with ill-will j that is passed from mouth to mouth. 
Something is whispered to one of a circle, he whis- 
pers it to his neighbor, and so it goes round, until 
the last who receives it is required to repeat it 
aloud, after the original has been given out. The 
consequence is, invariably, a universal shout at the 
absence of all correspondence between the two. 
Would that this happened only " in play." Alas, 
the same thing is true in the intercourse of life. 
Yet how many grave, injurious accusations have 
no other basis than an "on dit." Never diffuse, 
never receive them. So you will adopt one means 
of placing yourself in the category of those " who 
will dwell in the hill of the Lord," if the inspired 
Psalmist is of good authority. 



CHAPTER XVI. 



MORAL COURAGE. 



I must say a few supplementary words to you 
on the subject of moral courage, the want of which 
I should have enumerated among the causes, con- 
stantly in operation, that are adverse to truth, and 
favorable to the growth and spread of prejudice. 

One of the most eminent instances of this virtue 
which I have had the pleasure of knowing, and for 
the knowledge of which I have felt truly grateful, 
is related in the following extract : " Towards 
the close of the eighteenth century, one of those 
political tornadoes, which occasionally visit a peo- 
ple struggling under the iron reign of despotism, 
passed over devoted Ireland. Under the mockery 
of judicial proceedings, multitudes of her noble- 
hearted sons fell victims to the rapacity of a time- 
serving ministry, and a corrupt and cruel court. 
William Sampson, then one of Ireland's proudest 
sons, was called upon to defend a fellow-country- 
man, indicted for treason and marked for destruc- 
tion by the minions of power. He was alleged to 
be a * United Irishman ; ' and this was synonymous 
with traitor. 



MOEAL COURAGE. 207 

" A suborned -witness was produced, who swore 
that the prisoner had administered to him the oath 
required on admission to that association. An 
emotion of pleasure curled the lip of the presiding 
judge, as he recorded the testimony which he 
deemed sufficient to take away the life of his vic- 
tim. Sampson took from the hand of the witness 
the paper on which was written the oath, placed 
himself upon the stand, and called upon the jury 
to hear the oath, for the taking and administering 
of which, they were to condemn a fellow-creature 
to an ignominious death. 

" He read in deep, emphatic tones, ' In the name 
of God, I do voluntarily declare I will persevere in 
endeavoring to form a brotherhood of affection 
among Irishmen of every religious persuasion ; and 
that I will persevere in my endeavor to obtain an 
equal, full, and adequate representation of all the 
people of Ireland.' Then, turning to the witness 
he asked, 'Is this the only oath the prisoner at the 
bar administered to you V 'It is,' was the reply. 
' Is the taking this oath the only ceremony required 
to make a United Irishman?' 'It is.' Every eye 
was fixed on the fearless advocate. He looked upon 
the court and the jury, lifted the Bible from the 
desk before him, raised his commanding person to 
its fullest height, repeated in the most solemn and 
impressive manner the words of the oath, pressed 
the sacred book to his lips, and said, ' So help me 



208 MORAL COURAGE. 

God. I now call upon your Lordship and the jury 
to bear witness that I, too, am a United Irishman.' 
Turning to the crown lawyer, he continued, ' Mr. 
Attorney-General, you may file your process ; there 
is no need for perjury in your witnesses.' This 
scene transpired before men, and its effect could 
not be prevented. The prisoner was immediately 
acquitted ; but from that moment, Sampson was 
marked for sacrifice. Our country was his refuge ; 
and, after a life of brilliant usefulness, he found in 
her bosom, a peaceful and honored grave." 

It was not merely to save the life of a fellow- 
mortal, even at the risk of his own, that this noble 
man thus boldly took his stand upon the platform 
of human right and liberty ; it was to utter his 
most earnest and solemn protest, for all time, 
against such a heinous violation of its first prin- 
ciples, as made a man amenable to a human tribu- 
nal, and liable to sentence of death, simply for 
obeying and carrying out some of the highest in- 
stincts of his nature. If such protests were made 
more frequently, the engines which carry forward 
society in its advancement, would not so often be 
liable to a reverse movement, or subject to trying, 
vexatious delays. 

Men and women, in the ordinary course of life, 
are seldom called upon to exhibit moral courage so 
sublimely and at such great hazard. But occa- 
sions are perpetually arising which demand its 



MORAL COURAGE. 209 

exercise, at the risk of some inconvenience, some 
loss of popularity, some mortification at being ac- 
counted a strange, singular, unaccountable person, 
some forfeiture of the good- will it is so pleasant to 
enjoy, some denial of the craving so natural to 
one's love of approbation. 

And how are these occasions generally met ? It 
is a melancholy truth that moral courage, even on 
a small scale, is a rare virtue* This is proved by 
the fact that men fall in so easily with customs 
which they do not approve, and even believe to be 
wrong ; that in adopting new opinions, new theo- 
ries which are frowned upon by society, they are 
prone to conceal them ; if they have any habits, 
however right in themselves, which are liable to 
misconstruction, malicious or otherwise, the same 
veil is thrown over them. If they hear the good 
name of another, albeit a friend, attacked by a 
company of people among whom they are thrown, 
and condemnations passed that they know or be- 
lieve to be unjust, how few have the corn-age to 
stem the torrent, and utter a loud disclaimer ! 

It is easy to see, then, that he who has this very 
common defect, cannot be altogether true to him- 
self or to others. Xext to God, there is no other 
being of whom a man should stand so much in 
awe as of himself. He should fear to sin against 
himself — to do that which shall cause his own con- 
demnation or contempt. It is only evil deeds that 



210 MORAL COURAGE. 

should seek the cover of darkness ; evil thoughts 
that should court concealment. What it is right 
to do at all, it is right to do openly. What it is 
right to believe, is worthy of an open profession. 

When a conscientious man does wrong, what is 
it but a want of moral courage that prevents him 
from making due acknowledgment of his error ? 
In lieu of confession, he maintains it, perseveres 
in it, persuades himself, and would fain persuade 
others, to believe a lie. He thus exerts an evil in- 
fluence, instead of doing a great good ; for, little 
as the fact is recognized, nay, obstinately as it is 
denied, both in theory and practice, it is neverthe- 
less positively true, that the acknowledgment of 
error, whether committed in high or low places, 
whether by superiors or their subordinates, 
whether by those who teach, or those who are 
taught, those who rule or those who serve, disarms 
hatred and opposition, subdues ill-will, promotes 
harmony and inspires respect ; for is it not a pledge 
of fidelity to the " higher law" which should gov- 
ern society ? 

The class of those who, from extreme narrow- 
ness, or strong conservative tendency of mind, 
oppose every new truth, is not so large as it ap- 
pears, because it is greatly swelled by the timid, 
who, though they may have more intelligent per- 
ceptions or greater frankness, dare not openly 
espouse what is unpopular, and therefore, prac- 



MORAL COURAGE. 211 

tically, they use their influence to oppose the 
spread of truth, and extend that of unreasonable 
prejudice. 

A great deal both of public and private immo- 
rality remains unchecked, from the want of courage 
to protest against, or rebuke it. Many a grown-up 
man and woman would be incapable of conduct 
such as I knew of, in a manly boy, only eleven 
years of asre, who was sent from the country to a 
large school of boys in one of our cities. Being 
remarkably mature and, in many ways, attractive, 
his company was sought by elder boys ; and two 
Spaniards, young men from sixteen to eighteen 
years of asre, were often in his room. Though he 
liked them in other respects, their habits of pro- 
fanity annoyed him very much. At length he 
summoned courage to say, " Gfentlemen, you must 
be good enough to avoid profane language, or not 
to come to my room." They continued to be his 
visitors, and never again swore in his presence. 

A great deal of wrong-doing is submitted to, 
both in public and private life, from the same 
cause. If there were more Sampsons — I do not 
mean, more like him of G-aza — there would be 
fewer oppressors ; and one nation, so-called Chris- 
tian, would not be eager to hold another in bond- 
age more wicked than that which made toil-worn 
brickmakers of an ancient race, afterwards prophet- 
led. 



212 MORAL COURAGE. 

If there were more boys like him I have men- 
tioned, there would be less vice and moral disorder 
in schools. Who, that has ever had charge of a 
school, does not know what a wall of rock a few, who 
stand up boldly for the right, present against a 
threatening tide of evil ? and who does not also 
know, alas ! how much more common is yielding 
than resistance, even on the part of those before 
supposed to be reliable ? 

In small as well as large communities, nuisances, 
offensive customs, violations of right, injuries, are 
submitted to, because no one dares lift up his voice 
against them. There are many who shrink from 
saying or from doing what may render them un- 
popular, because they may thus forego the chance 
of some object of fond pursuit — political advance- 
ment, office, emolument ; the favor of men in 
power, the good-will of the rich and fortunate in 
society, etc. But a still larger class stand in a 
sort of instinctive fear of their fellow-men, which 
is less unworthy, only because it is not cpiite so 
basely selfish as that which inspires those whom 
they thus resemble. 

No doubt, there is a certain proper respect to be 
paid to one's fellow-men — a certain internal desire 
to be held in esteem by them. But, the more a man 
is governed by principle, the less will he care for 
what men think of him ; the more he strives after 
the approbation of God, the less will he seek the 



MORAL COURAGE. 213 

favor of man ; the more he stands in awe of God 
and of himself, the less he stands in awe of man. 
I suspect that, if, as men advance in life, they ad- 
vance also in wisdom and knowledge, they become 
more and more indifferent as to what men say and 
think of them. Human verdicts, as I have shown 
you elsewhere, are not very reliable — not much to 
be heeded or valued; 

Do not misapprehend me. It is, no doubt, de- 
sirable to establish, ou a substantial basis, a char- 
acter, a reputation if you please, for that which is 
" of good report." No especial pains need be 
taken, however, to secure this. He who deserves 
it, has it, as a matter of course ; without, however, 
beiug necessarily exempt from cavil and criticism. 
But to these, a good man can afford to be insensible. 
Whoever leads a true, manly, Christian life, " is 
one of God's freemen — the truth has made him 
free ;" not free, necessarily, from blame, misrepre- 
sentation, or persecution ; but free from all the 
trammels that fetter the ignorant and the selfish ; 
especially, free from the fear of man. He knows 
in whom he believes ; and he has a consciousness 
of rectitude that makes him strong in the inner 
man ; so that he is always self-sustained, and needs 
no propping from his neighbors. He feels himself 
to be en rapport with the wise and good of all ages ; 
and however near, and with however unfriendly 
aspect, beings of another order may approach to 



214 MORAL COURAGE. 

do him harm ; he is, in one sense, at too wide a 
distance from them ; to care for anything of evil 
intent that they may do or say. 

Physical courage may, and very often does, exist, 
without moral courage ; but the latter, being far the 
higher quality, implies, also, the lower in connection 
with it. It is easier to face a cannon-ball than one of 
the anathemas of society. It is easier to fight a duel 
than to bear the reputation of cowardice. It is 
easier to ride a dangerous animal than to be sup- 
posed wanting in horsemanship. He has a rarely 
brave soul, who, like Sergeant Champ, in our rev- 
olution, being loyal to the core, consents, for the 
sake of rendering a service to his General and his 
country, to assume the character, and sustain the 
reputation of a deserter. He is scarcely less brave, 
who incurs the scorn of men, rather than conform 
his conduct to their wicked, unhallowed ideas of 
" chivalry ;" and there is often great heroism in an 
honest disclaimer of such accomplishments and 
qualifications as society expects of men in different 
positions, and under different circumstances. 

Without a good share of moral courage, man 
cannot be true to himself, to God, or to society. 
Xot true to himself, because he is perpetually 
betrayed into departures from the strict line of 
right — into at least passive connivance with wrong- 
doing and evil-speaking ; into acquiescence with 
that which should be resisted ; into the assump- 



MORAL COURAGE. 215 

tion of false appearances ; into the assertion of 
false motives and reasons for his conduct — all 
which lessens him as a man, tends to dim his 
moral perceptions, and makes him liable to mistake 
" darkness for light." Man receives himself in 
trust from his Maker, to be developed, enlightened, 
purified, exalted into a true son. Shall he make 
of himself merely an " eye-servant" ? 

He cannot be true to Grocl ; for, as he has " a soul 
to save," so has he " a God to glorify." We are 
permitted to regard the Infinite Being under the 
image of a father, that we may have some faint 
comprehension of at least one of his attributes, 
viz., love. Is that son true to his father who sets 
aside his authority and departs from his example ? 
who diminishes, instead of promoting, his influence 
with his other children, and, in various ways, 
brings dishonor upon his name ? 

He cannot be true to society, because he allows 
himself to be pressed into the throng of those who 
are laggards in duty; who hinder and obstruct its 
true progress ; who are self-seekers and evil-doers. 
He helps to lower the standard of human conduct 
— to hold up, as prizes, what a true man, who has 
an eye to "the mark of the prize of the high call- 
ing of Grod in Christ Jesus our Lord," should reject 
as ignoble and worthless ; to shackle truth and 
give wings to error ; to set up images graven with 
vain and foolish devices, and make men incapable 



21G MORAL COURAGE. 

of a higher worship. When men that know bet- 
ter do all this, their responsibility is immensely 
greater than that of "blind leaders of the blind." 
Cultivate, therefore, this indispensable virtue, 
and train your children, assiduously, in its practice. 
The honest, voluntary confession of a fault, where 
punishment is not thereby avoided, makes a capital 
beginning of the " course." 



CHAPTER XVII. 



PATRIOTISM. 



This is a subject which I almost fear to ap- 
proach. It is too great for ordinary handling. 
Within the last two years the word has assumed, 
to Americans, at least, a broader, deeper signifi- 
cance than before attached to it ; and that for 
which it stands, is exalted into a higher attribute 
than the ordinary virtue called by its name. 

When sacrilegious hands are laid upon the holy 
things of the altar, a new and stronger impression 
of their preciousness and value is borne in upon the 
worshipper. He is aroused to vehement protest 
— quickened with holy indignation — and there 
mingles with his appreciation of what is thus 
threatened, or put in jeopardy, a feeling of tender- 
ness — an all-embracing love — a jealous spirit of 
protection and defence — that makes them dearer 
than ever before. 

If a possession that has long been quietly held 
without fear — without any thought but of perfect 
security, is suddenly assailed, and put in danger, 
the very necessity for guarding and defending it 
makes us prize it more highly, and cling to it 
10 



213 PATRIOTISM. 

more fondly. Alas ! that similar reasons exist 
why Americans should hold their country in a 
closer grasp of the heart than before ; and put patri- 
otism higher than ever in the scale of virtues. 

" For God and our country !" Why this associa- 
tion ? How is it that he who is truly for God, is 
also for his country, and vice versa ? 

Man, as an individual, is made for self-govern- 
ment ; as a part of society he is made to be gov- 
erned. God stands at the head of all society — in- 
visible, unapproachable, but not unfelt. His gov- 
ernment is faintly shadowed forth in a well-ordered 
family, at whose head are those who love and fear 
Him ; faintly imitated by beneficent rulers. Fealty 
to him implies fealty to those into whose keeping 
he first commits us ; fealty to the countiy wherein 
he has placed us. In truly serving Him we most 
truly serve our country. In promoting His king- 
dom, the reign of Justice, Mercy, Love, and Truth, 
we shall best establish our country's foundation, so 
that nothing shall overthrow it. In obeying his 
word, and keeping his commandments, we shall 
bring into active operation that "higher law" 
which puts a far more effectual restraint upon evil 
propensities, upon all that interferes with social 
harmony, order and true advancement, than any 
check of man's devising. 

Next to God, our country should be our highest 
ideal. It is the embodiment, to us, of his love — 



patriotism:. 219 

his protecting care — his bounty — his provision of 
every sort, for our well-being. They who dwell 
safely and securely in it, dwell, as it were, in the 
bosom of God. It is the " mansion" he has pro- 
vided for us here, in anticipation of that which will 
be " eternal in the heavens." 

We are made of its dust — we are part and par- 
cel of it ; we have an identity with it which noth- 
ing can destroy, and which we cannot have with 
any other portion of the material universe. We 
are bone of its bone, and flesh of its flesh. Shall 
we rebel against it ? We are its sons and daugh- 
ters. Shall we dishonor it? We owe it true 
heart- worship. Shall we desecrate it ? In its all- 
embracing love and protection, it is a type of God. 
Shall we " curse" it, and " die ?" 

God gives to each nation a portion of the earth's 
surface. He bids them occupy it, and dwell to- 
gether in brotherly love — -maintain order, and con- 
sult one another's interests. He commissions them 
to use and enjoy all that it is capable of producing, 
and to extend the blessings bestowed upon them 
as widely as possible. The command given to 
Adam is repeated to them: " Increase, multiply, 
replenish the earth." Does he give immunity 
for quarreljing, dissension, disruption, in the great 
family, any more than in the smaller families of 
which it is composed"? Must order, deference, 
obedience to authority, reign in these — and may 



220 PATRIOTISM. 

the members of the great family throw aside 
homage, restraint, whenever these are found in- 
compatible with the working out of their own 
evil devices? Is not the God of families the 
God also of nations ? While families hearken 
to his voice, shall the nations be deaf? While 
both suppose that they lend a willing ear, shall 
they hear differently ? Shall one receive that which 
contradicts what is said to the other ? Believe me, 
he who is for God, is also for his country, as well 
as for his family. 

Nor can true patriotism be a barren sentiment. 
It must be cherished, cultivated until it bring forth 
fruit. Here, again, Paul may plant, and Apollos wa- 
ter, but God must give the increase. True patriot- 
ism, like every other lofty virtue, is self-renouncing 
— is capable of mighty efforts and great sacrifices — 
makes no calculation of loss or gain ; will not give 
itself in exchange for anything that is of inferior 
value ; deals with no questions of mere expediency, 
and disregards all considerations of difficulty and 
danger. The service which it renders, though 
more than the most exacting despot might demand, 
is a free, willing service. 

Will true sons and daughters do that which shall 
mar the grace and beauty of the family home, or 
destroy its order and harmony ? — which shall dis- 
honor it ? — which shall make it a by-word and a 
reproach ? — which shall unfit it to be the resort of 



PATRIOTISM. 221 

choice spirits, and convert it into a den of thieves ? 
— which shall break it up, or lay it in ruins ? Will 
they not, on the contrary, if necessaiy , deny them- 
selves all other gratifications for the sake of keeping 
this dear home whole, and sound, and fair, in every 
part — safe from injury on every side — wishing, 
not merely to preserve it in its primitive order 
and beauty, but to improve and adorn it more and 
more ? 

A young man whom I knew, lost his parents when 
he was very young, and the homestead was sold into 
the hands of strangers. In after years he became 
prosperous, by those best of all means, industry 
and integrity, and wished to re-possess himself of 
the home of his birth. Circumstances, however, 
which were beyond his control, prevented his doing 
this, until he had become a middle-aged man. 
Then he effected its purchase — and, the matter 
being concluded, when the deed was placed in his 
hands, he burst into tears. The feelings that had 
so long swelled his heart burst forth. He had felt 
ill at ease, and, as it were, homeless in the world, 
albeit occupying a luxurious city mansion, so long 
as strangers were in possession of the penates who 
presided over his birth. The old house was auti- 
quated in style, and completely out of repair. At 
an expense quite equal to that which would have 
been incurred in building a fine modern house, he 
put it in perfect order, with such improvements as 



222 PATRIOTISM. 

did not destroy its identity, or interfere, essentially, 
with its individuality. Reverent hands were laid, 
also, upon the grounds about it, to bless them with 
grace and beauty. 

You may be sure that this man, so faithful to the 
memory and affections of his childhood, was a pa- 
triot as well ; and that his patriotism was of a high 
order. The spirit which animated him is kindred 
with that which warms the heart of every true 
lover of his country. If all Americans were pa- 
triots, then, would not our dear country be as the 
garden of the Lord ? Would not peace and plenty 
dwell in all its borders ? Would not its every 
wilderness and solitary place blossom as the rose ? 
Would there not be an invisible net-work binding 
together and securing all its moral interests, as the 
net-work of rivers, railroads, and canals, secures 
and promotes its material interests ? Would not 
its people clasp each other by the hand in true, 
hearty, honest fellowship, from one end of it to the 
other '? Would not a blessed sunlight penetrate its 
darkest corners? Would not strength be substi- 
tuted for every weakness — grace for all that which 
is uncomely — soundness and stability for threatened 
decay in any of its parts — moral order and harmony 
for confusion and discord ? Would not our blessed 
flag float over a land worthy of it ; enjoying such 
freedom from all that enslaves the soul, as should 
make it truly worthy to set itself up as the repre- 



PATRIOTISM. 223 

sentative and champion of universal political and 
religious liberty ? 

There is but one other emblem so significant as 
a flag, viz. : the cross. The true worshipper bows, 
in solemnity, before the latter, and makes sacred 
vows. He strives to fill himself with the spirit of 
Him who died upon it. He consecrates himself 
afresh to this service. He renews his oath of alle- 
giance. He seeks new strength and spirit to ful- 
fil all the obligations imposed by that oath — to be 
a true soldier of the cross ; willing, if necessary, 
in imitation of his great commander, to wear the 
crown of martyrdom. This is the true worshipper. 
The sham or the deluded worshipper also bends 
his knees before if, either to impose upon his fel- 
low-men, and gain a reputation for sanctity, which 
may serve some temporal end ; or through a ser- 
vile, superstitious fear of hell, and a hope of thereby 
escaping eternal punishment. 

So has the flag of one's country its true and its 
false worshippers. In the one class, the sight of it 
quickens and animates the sentiments of loyalty 
and devotion to the cause of truth and right and 
liberty, the cause for which the fathers of our 
country labored and suffered, and for which many 
of them sacrificed their worldly interests, many 
their lives ; the cause which they intended this flag 
to protect when they adopted it as our national 
emblem. In the other class, it produces no emo- 



224 PATRIOTISM. 

tion higher than that of placid satisfaction in the 
consciousness that their property, their material 
interests are safe under its protection ; and some 
personal selfish pride in being citizens of the great 
country which it represents. 

Would that we had approved ourselves worthy 
of that flag ; worthy to have it wave over our own 
land, and be borne over the seas as our representa- 
tive in foreign lands! Would that every American 
who dies, deserved to have it drape his coffin. Men 
cannot be true patriots without being true men 
— they cannot be true freemen, unless the truth, 
God's truth, has made them free from selfishness, 
error, and sin. True patriotism must begin in 
self-government, self-renunciation — so must true 
democracy. He, who is not self-governed, has no 
proper place among freemen — he is not fit for 
freedom, because he does not know how to use it, 
and will propose to himself only unworthy, or 
comparatively insignificant, ends to be gained by 
it. The material prosperity of men, as well as of 
nations, is but a secondary good. 

Nor, if a man is not self-governed, can he be fit 
to take any part in the government of his country ; 
to give his vote for its rulers, or have any thing to 
do with its legislation. Is there not manifest ab- 
surdity in one being placed in authority over his 
fellow-men, or assisting to elevate others, who is 
the slave of his temper, of his prejudices, or of 



PATKIOTISM. 225 

blind self-interest? We are told to "keep the 
heart with all diligence, because that out of it are 
the issues of life ;" life, true life for one's self, for 
the home to which he belongs, for the sphere in 
which he moves, for society and for his country. 

The true American Patriot must be, not only a self- 
governed, but an enlightened man and Christian. 
There is no democracy worth the name, but a genuine 
Christian democracy, composed of men, who really 
love their kind, and recognize them as brethren ; 
who, not only admit the right of all to "life, 
liberty, and the pursuit of happiness," but do 
every thing in their power to assist their fellow- 
men in turning this right to account, in procuring 
what it should secure to them. Whenever men 
arrive at a knowledge of the fact, that what one 
man gains at another man's cost or loss, is never a 
real substantial gain, and that the same thing is true 
of national advantages acquired upon similar condi- 
tions, a great advance will be made towards the 
establishment of universal Christian democracy. 
If once the golden rule were universally adopted 
and put in practice, all national and personal rival- 
ries would immediately come to an end ; monarch- 
ies, whether despotic or otherwise, would quietly 
disappear ; and free institutions, really free, would 
everywhere take their place. 

What is the patriotism at this moment exhibited 
in our " free" country ? Leaving out of considera- 
10* 



226 PATRIOTISM. 

tion the fact that eight millions of our fellow- 
countrymen, either voluntarily or by compulsion, 
have banded themselves together as traitors, and 
are doing their utmost to destroy a government, 
which, however imperfect, is by far the best the 
world ever knew ; under which they had lived in 
peaceful enjoyment of the highest privileges and 
greatest blessings that were ever accorded to man — 
of what quality is the boasted patriotism of the 
North ? Certainly, never was a finer, grander 
quality exhibited, than is shown and acted out by 
our real patriots — fathers and mothers freely offer- 
ing their precious sons a sacrifice, if necessary, 
upon the altar of their country ; wives, daughters, 
and sisters suppressing the heaving of their hearts, 
while they buckle on the armor of husband, father, 
or brother; noble men of the working classes, 
voluntarily foregoing the comfort and security of 
most comfortable homes, and the certain means of 
provision for their families, to live on soldier's ra- 
tions, and be subject to a soldier's fate, without the 
stimulus of hoped-for promotion or renown ; since 
what " the private " does is seldom heralded ; men 
whose worldly position is higher, leaving lucrative 
employments which they may never have a chance 
to resume; renouncing, for the time, professions or 
business, in which they may never have an oppor- 
tunity to re-establish themselves, in order to be 
enrolled in our armies; young men, who were 



PATRIOTISM. 227 

abroad, whether on errands of business or of plea- 
sure and improvement, hastening home for the 
same purpose ; young men of fortune and leisure, 
who had, hitherto, lived only for enjoyment, re- 
garding themselves as no longer at their own dis- 
posal, and rushing in eager obedience to their 
country's call ; students, fresh from college and 
from books, stopping short in the midst of a stu- 
dent's career, together with others, also sons of 
gentlemen, not waiting for the distinction of 
shoulder-straps, but joining " the ranks," rather 
than fail to be in the battle-field ; a company alto- 
gether of six hundred thousand men, who had never 
known want or hardship — the draft, so far anti- 
cipated, because Americans of the North revolted 
at the idea of any other than a voluntary service to 
their country, that several States have already fur- 
nished, without drafting, more than the quota 
required of them ; hospitals erected all over the 
land, and stored with every provision for the com- 
fort of the sick and wounded ; noble women devot- 
ing themselves to their care, and even sometimes 
seeking them on the battle-field ; a great sanitary 
commission, watching like a vigilant Providence 
over those for whose benefit it was called into 
existence, and providing for all their wants, never 
appealing in vain for the aid that shall keep its 
treasury, and its store-houses full ; and receiving, 
in one instance, a hundred thousand dollars, the 



228 PATEIOTISM. 

gift of a distant sister State ; busy hands at work in 
every village, to keep well stocked the large depots 
in all our cities, of garments, and other necessaries 
for hospitals ; eight tons of goods provided, upon a 
sudden call, by the city of Boston alone, between 
Saturday night and Monday morning, the afternoon 
services in the churches being suspended to allow' 
more time for their preparations ; does not all this 
constitute a spectacle at which angels might 
"rejoice?" 

Never were braver men or better soldiers ; 
never any who behaved more gloriously on the 
battle-field ; who exhibited more touching patience 
in the hospital. It has been the uniform testimony 
of nurses, that no complaint ever reached their 
ears. 

Why is all this effort, all this sacrifice, all this 
interruption to ordinary American life in the 
North ? — free, happy, careless, secure, peaceful life. 
Because our men have been called upon to fight 
for God and their country ; because we have been 
long delinquent, long in complicity with a deadly 
sin ; giving to slavery all the support, all the ex- 
tension that it asked. As the Jews threw their 
children into the arms of Moloch, and when these 
opened and let them fall into the fire beneath, 
stifled the noise of their cries with the sound of 
drum and trumpet ; so we threw our precious 



PATRIOTISM. 229 

things — -justice, mercy, political integrity, patriot- 
ism before this Juggernaut ; clamorously crying 
out, " Great is the Union" of which we had made 
to ourselves an idol. 

We could not bear to have our national pros- 
perity interfered with, and felt ourselves bound 
to maintain the Union, without reference to that 
which could alone make it of intrinsic value. So 
we consented to remain a living body tied to one 
that was dead ; and becoming more and more 
foul and corrupt from the contact. At length the 
dormant spirit of a true patriotism was awakened, 
and it said : " We have given enough to slavery ; 
we will not meddle with what it has ; but we will 
bestow no further favors upon it ; it shall have no 
more free territory to defile. We have long worn 
its yoke ; now we will stand up in our own free- 
dom." Slavery replied: "Then we curse and 
defy you. If we cannot be your masters any 
longer by compromise and submission on your 
part, we will subdue you, if possible, by the 
sword." And the North accepted the challenge. 
The heart of the nation was aroused by a true, 
patriotic impulse. God grant that this may bear 
all before it. 

We have little sympathy from other nations ; 
none from that with which we are kindred in 
blood and language, except, indeed, from her 



230 PATRIOTISM. 

working men ; who alone suffer severely from a 
failure of the cotton supply, consequent upon 
this civil war. God bless them for their noble 
refusal to join in a petition to the British Parlia- 
ment for intervention. They know full well that 
the cause for which we are contending, is their 
cause also. 

Yet this is the same England so vociferous, 
hitherto, in her denunciations of slavery ; and her 
denunciations of us for being its abettors. She 
even gives aid to our slave-holding enemies. But 
we fight for God and our country ; and if we are 
true to Him and to it, the " wrath of man shall not 
prevail against " us. 

Alas ! for the reverse of the picture we have 
given of Northern patriotism — men in our midst, 
absolute traitors, ready to betray as noble a cause 
as men ever lived or died for ; so that, loud as was 
the open menace of our enemies, formidable as is 
their front, our hidden foes are still more to be 
feared — selfish men at home sympathizing with 
the cause of the rebels, because forsooth, the 
material prosperity of the country receives a severe 
check — men who would submit to any degrada- 
tion ; to complicity with any crime; to have a 
large portion of their fellow-men doomed to bond- 
age in perpetuity, rather than pay a higher price 
for tea, coffee, cotton, or broadcloth ; rather 



PATKIOTISM. 231 

than be taxed, even moderately ; rather than have 
a mill wheel stopped, or a factory closed — men 
who make merchandise of their country's exigen- 
cies ; who, when she has been robbed, stripped, 
threatened with bankruptcy, incurred in defence 
of her very existence, steal from her, defraud her, 
and propose to themselves nothing higher or bet- 
ter than to fill their pockets at her expense. 

Seest thou a son secretly admitting the mid- 
night assassin and burglar into his father's houSe ? 
Pretended patriot, but traitor at heart, " Thou art 
the man." ^ 

Seest thou a son ready to sell his father into 
slavery, in order to promote his own personal and 
private interests ? Selfish sympathizer with South- 
ern traitors and rebels, " Thou art the man." 

Seest thou a son imposing upon his father by 
fraudulent bargains made for his own gain, or 
secretly abstracting from his desk the money that 
in his straitened circumstances he can ill afford to 
lose? O mean, wretched haggler in bargains 
which bring gain to thee, and loss to thy country, 
" Thou art the man," 

Alas ! that there should be quartermasters who 
intercept and sell, on their own account, clothing 
and bedding contributed for the comfort of soldiers ; 
sutlers who make them pay enormous prices for 
necessary articles ; surgeons and nurses who inter- 



232 PATRIOTISM. 

cept and appropriate to their own use nice food 
and delicacies provided for the sick in the hospitals, 
or who are hard in manner, or cruel and negligent 
in conduct towards them ; commissaries who ex- 
change the excellent provisions furnished to the 
army by our Government, for inferior articles, put- 
ting the difference of value in their own pockets ; 
officers who are indifferent to the comfort of their 
soldiers, and take no care of them — not treating 
them as men and brothers, though engaged in the 
same holy cause as themselves — officers who inflict 
barbarous punishments, who are made savage in 
temper and unjust in dealing by intemperance ; 
who gamble with their men on pay-day, and win 
from them their hard earned wages ; who sometimes 
reduce them to the necessity of pledging their wa- 
ges before they are paid ; who even take from the 
discharged soldier his coat and his blanket, com- 
pelling him to go without proper protection from 
the cold, and sell them for his own benefit. 

Thank Heaven that in regard to all, or most of 
these classes of men, we may hope that the offend- 
ers are in the minority. These, however, are 
dreadful enormities. They shock our moral sense ; 
they mortify our human pride ; they make us feel 
that the human race is still on a very low plane of 
existence ; they greatly abate our national self- 
satisfaction. We say nothing of vile political in- 



PATRIOTISM. 233 

triguers, who would sell, not only their country, 
but their own souls, for office or influence. Theirs 
is a den of iniquity we dare not enter. History 
will one day lay it open, and bring its dreadful se- 
crets to light. 

Yet with this large abatement, there is still a 
well, a fountain of pure patriotism in our midst, 
enough for perpetual diffusion in the hearts of the 
large mass of our people, who will never cease the 
ciy " God and our country" until the cause of 
both is established. How can any one doubt that 
our cause is the cause of God, who believes that 
he is on the side of truth, and right, and liberty. 
Of course it is the cause of all men, and especially 
of all working men ; of the classes among whom 
Christ was born, We are not fighting for ourselves 
only ; but, if you will admit the paradox, for those 
against whom we fight : for our brethren here and 
everywhere ; for the European, the Asiatic, the 
African. It has been said that the contest we are 
engaged in, is but the continuation of that in which 
Magna Charta was extorted from King John ; and 
it will go on until all men are indeed brethren, 
dwelling together in unity of right, unity of inter- 
est, unity of good-will, unity of aspiration. 

Be then good patriots yourselves, and train your 
children to be so. This is the best work you can 
do for your country, viz., help to fill it with 



234 PATRIOTISM. 

worthy citizens. Thus will your patriotism, in- 
deed, bring forth fruit. Train your sons and your 
daughters in the knowledge of what they receive 
from their country, and what they therefore owe 
to it. Do not let them suppose that they are pat- 
riots simply because their bosoms occasionally 
throb with pride and joy at the sight of our flag, 
or at any recognition of our increasing power and 
greatness as a nation. Do not let your sons sup- 
pose that they can truly serve and glorify their 
country, if they have not that which is worthy 
within themselves. 

No selfish man can be a true patriot, because he 
is incapable of any sacrifice in his country's cause. 
No maa whose standard of life and conduct is low, 
can do anything to exalt it among the nations. No 
lover of himself can be a true lover of his country, 
or of anything better than himself. 

It is one thing to add to our country's wealth, 
while filling our own purses — to increase the num- 
ber of its mechanical inventions — to cover it with 
harvest fields — to bring forth from its bowels the 
riches they contain — to dot it all over with flourish- 
ing cities and villages — to bring all its parts into 
close connection by lines of steamboats and rail- 
roads — to multiply its shipping and extend its com- 
merce — to make the busy hum of industry heard 
from one end of it to the other — to pour perpetual 



PATRIOTISM. 235 

contributions into its treasury, and help maintain 
its financial credit. It is a far higher and better 
thing to swell the ranks of those, its sons and 
daughters, who are ennobled by truth, by honor, 
by enlightenment, by charity, by self-negation ; 
who will give it moral power — who will help 
to make it a righteous nation, worthy of all re- 
spect by the nations of the earth, and capable of 
fulfilling the high mission with which it has been 
entrusted. 



THE END. 




